


Real or Not Real

by gluupor



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: (probably fewer than expected considering it is the Hunger Games), Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Canon warnings for both Hunger Games and All for the Game apply, Dystopia, Minor Character Death, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-03 16:45:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 51,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13345323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gluupor/pseuds/gluupor
Summary: Neil’s just won the Hunger Games so his life should be smooth sailing from now on. It’ll be easy! All he has to do is keep his temper under control, stop antagonizing the president, survive living with his fellow Victors (despite the fact that several of them seem to want to break him), and avoid inciting a rebellion.Too bad nothing in Neil's life has ever been easy.Featuring a Neil who is Done with everybody’s shit, an Andrew who is feeling both personally victimised and reluctantly intrigued by the new kid’s pretty eyes and sharp tongue, and a Kevin who would really rather not be the figurehead of a revolution, thanks.





	1. this is the start of how it all ever ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! This is my Hunger Games AU, a story that my brain decided I should write after I wanted to write something short and fluffy. Oh, well. Maybe next time. Canon warnings for violence (you know, because of teenagers killing each other on television) apply. There will also be character deaths in future chapters, I'll put the spoilery warnings into the end notes. Additional warnings for this chapter include suicide ideation and references to suicide, vague references to child abuse (Neil's past) and childhood sexual abuse (Andrew's past). Let me know if there's anything else I should tag!
> 
> I think this fic will end up being four chapters, I'll try to post one a week. I can be reached on tumblr ([@gluupor](http://gluupor.tumblr.com)) if you have any questions.
> 
> Please make sure to leave comments and kudos if you enjoy!

“Ladies and gentlemen, presenting the Victor of the 74th annual Hunger Games, representing District 10, Nathaniel Hatford Wesninski!”

Neil suppresses a wince at hearing his full name spoken aloud on national television. Allison fiddles a little with his collar before giving him a shove towards the stage. “Smile!” she hisses, so Neil pastes a smile on his face. He knows it is sharp and cruel: an echo of his father’s.

He steps onto Kathy Ferdinand’s stage and waves at the adoring crowd. His movements probably look unconvincing - too jerky and not pleased enough - but it’s likely going to be the most honest thing he does tonight. He is an unpleasant jerk, after all.

He finds the noise overwhelming; after being patched up in medical - once he killed his last competitor and had been taken from the arena - he’d spent most of his time staring blankly at a wall. Neither Allison nor Katelyn nor his prep team nor Wymack had shown any surprise at this turn of events and took it in stride, meaning that his reaction was probably typical of all Victors. Apparently the survivors of death matches where teenagers are forced to kill each other aren’t the pinnacle of mentally healthy individuals, shockingly.

Kathy, standing centre stage in front of two large, squashy armchairs, raises her arms in an invitation for a hug. Her hair is purple tonight, teased large and sparkly. He makes his way towards her and she envelops him, giving him air kisses next to each cheek. Then she holds him at arm’s length by his shoulders.

“Nathaniel,” she says fondly, shaking her head. “Nathaniel, Nathaniel, Nathaniel.”

Each time she says his name he has to fight not to flinch. “You can still call me Neil,” he offers. “It’s my nickname.”

She grins at him, full of teeth. “What are we going to do with you?” She takes a seat.

Neil follows suit and answers her question. “Hopefully nothing too strenuous,” he jokes. “I’m still catching up on sleep.”

She laughs easily, then turns serious. “Last time you were here with me we all thought your name was Neil Josten and no one had any expectations for you. You had an average rating and, forgive me for saying, were not one of the more memorable Tributes. I don’t think I’m wrong in saying that your win has surprised everyone! There are some very disappointed gamblers out there; I doubt that anyone put money on you.”

Neil shrugs. “I would say I’m sorry but I can’t apologize for wanting to live.”

“Oh, of course you can’t,” Kathy replies instantly. “It was foolish of us to underestimate you anyway. With all the excitement of meeting all the Tributes we all forgot that you volunteered to be here. That’s practically unheard of outside of the career districts! I don’t think it’s ever happened in your district before. Although District 10 isn’t _really_ your district is it?”

“It’s where I was living,” says Neil. “I chose to represent it. That makes it my district.”

Kathy gives him a penetrating look. “But it’s not. You’re not a nobody from District 10. You’re the son of not one but _two_ of our past Victors. You were born here in the Capitol, but your mother was Mary Hatford, the winner of the 47th Hunger Games, and your father, Nathan Wesninski, won the 48th Games.”

“That’s correct,” Neil confirms. Despite everything inside of him demanding he lie, he knows it is futile. Wymack had detailed for him the media explosion that had resulted from his lineage being discovered mid-way through the Games.

“Why the deception?”

“I didn’t want my parents’ fame to overshadow me. I wanted to stand on my own,” Neil lies.

“That’s admirable,” Kathy practically coos. “Although I don’t know how we were all fooled!” she chuckles. “You’re the spitting image of your father!”

Neil is well aware of that; he hasn’t been able to look at himself in the mirror since Allison had dyed his hair back to its natural colour and discarded his colour contacts. “So I’ve been told,” Neil says past the lump in his throat.

Kathy smiles at him benignly for a few moments before reaching out to take one of his hands in hers. “So, Neil, tell me what you were doing living in District 10 instead of in District 2 with your father or in your mother’s district.”

Neil steadies himself. He knew that this question was coming and it takes effort to speak of his mother without emotion. “For the first ten years of my life I lived in District 2, training with my father and his friends to be a career tribute,” he explains, neatly excising all the details about how awful his life had been. “But that was never what my mother wanted for me. She… well, let’s just say that she did not react favourably to the life of fame that winning the Hunger Games afforded her. She took me from my father’s care and we went into hiding. I’ve lived in many different districts; District 10 was just where I ended up after her untimely death last year.”

“You have my condolences for your loss,” says Kathy. “And also for your father’s sudden death earlier this year. That must have been difficult; you missed reuniting with him by only a few days.”

Neil nods stiffly, not letting himself react – he’s pretty sure that laughing in glee at his father’s demise would raise some questions.

Kathy waits to see if he will say anything and barrels on when he doesn’t. “So what prompted you to volunteer as Tribute? You’re eighteen and your name wasn’t called during the Reaping, this was the last possible Hunger Games that you could compete in. If you’d stayed quiet you could have granted your mother’s wishes.”

Neil wonders what would happen if he told the truth. The reactions of the audience would surely be funny, but it definitely wouldn’t help his situation and may actually harm it, so he chooses to tell his scripted story. “It was Kevin Day, actually,” he says with a self-deprecating grin. “His actions and words during last year’s Reaping really struck a chord with me.”

“Oh, yes, Kevin!” says Kathy enthusiastically. “He’s a big favourite around here! It hadn’t occurred to me that the two of you would know each other, but of course! You grew up together, two children of past Victors.” She pauses while the audience applauds and cheers. “His observations about the Hunger Games last year certainly gave us all food for thought.”

What Kevin’s observations had done was spark hints of rebellion in the districts. The revelation of Neil’s past had done nothing but fan the flames. President Riko Moriyama had visited him following his victory and had explained that the media reports that he and his mother had been defying the Capitol for years by lying about their identities and moving between districts had given credence to the idea that opposition to the president’s iron rule was possible. He had unsubtly threatened Neil, demanding that he correct the misconception that he could be defied or else Neil would be very firmly put in his place. Katelyn, too, had been adamant that Neil stay away from the topic of Kevin and Wymack had given gruff advice about not antagonizing powerful people. Neil sees Katelyn frantically waving at him from the wings. “Exactly,” he says, ignoring her. “It made me realize that by staying silent, all the people living in the districts and I are condoning the behaviour of the administration, and that’s a dangerous precedent. I didn’t want to be complicit anymore.”

Kathy looks flabbergasted, before giving a light, fake laugh. “Surely you don’t mean to be suggesting what it sounds like you’re suggesting?”

“What use is a government that cannot handle a nobody from District 10 questioning their actions? Their reign must be unsteady if such a small thing could threaten to topple it,” Neil says. Wymack is glaring at him from the sidelines. He had told Neil to control his temper and keep his mouth shut. Wouldn’t it be ironic, he’d asked, if Neil had survived 23 other Tributes trying their best to murder him in the arena only to be killed by his smart mouth? Neil knows better. His survival is an illusion: he is already dead and buried; he might as well nail his coffin shut. “It’s like Kevin Day said: how weak does a man have to be in order to kill children to demonstrate his strength?”

Kathy is gaping at him and the audience is so quiet that Neil could hear a pin drop. He does hear the slap of Wymack’s head hitting his hand as he facepalms.

Neil would feel guilty, but Wymack doesn’t know him that well. This isn’t irony. It was always going to be his tongue that got him killed.

* * *

Neil enjoys living in District 10. Although he’s lived in many districts with his mother, he’s never lived this far south and he appreciates the warmth. The industry of the district is livestock and Neil has secured himself a job working on a goat farm. The goats are ornery and stubborn and rebellious and extremely good at escaping from their enclosures. Neil likes them. He feels a certain kinship with them.

It is the day before the Reaping so Neil is putting in extra hours on the farm. Tomorrow he will be expected to attend the selection of which children being sent to their deaths this year. The mood is somber; there is no expectation that either of the District 10 Tributes will win. The district has had a Victor before, but not in the last fifty years. Despite that, Neil is not worried. His false identification paperwork is very good and says that he is nineteen years old, too old to be chosen as Tribute for the Hunger Games.

As he closes the barn doors for the evening his eyes catch on a symbol scratched into the weathered wood. It is a stylized sun, the symbol used by his mother and uncle’s network of contacts. He briefly wonders if it is coincidence that it is also the symbol that Kevin Day wore in the arena last year to honour his mother. Probably not, he decides. He doesn’t believe in coincidence.

In the past, whenever he has moved it has been through his family contacts that he’s received new identification papers. This symbol showing up where very few people know him to be is disconcerting. Obviously someone wants his attention and to have a word with him. There are a couple marks beside the symbol, indicating time and location. It is, for all intents and purposes, a summons. He would ignore it, but his very survival could one day depend on the help of the people who make up the network.

He waits until after dark before leaving the farm, sneaking through the fence that surrounds the district. He is surprised to find his uncle waiting for him. When his mother had first taken him from District 2 and the training camp run by his father she had returned to her own district to stay with her brother. They hadn’t stayed with him long before running and hiding elsewhere, but had remained in contact with him through his network. He thinks that his mother would have preferred to cut off all communication, but the benefits had outweighed the dangers.

“Nathaniel,” his uncle greets him. He looks tired and haggard. Neil wonders what could be important enough to his uncle that he would risk travelling between districts, an action that is forbidden by the Capitol.

“Uncle Stuart.”

“I’ll keep this quick,” his uncle says, characteristic in his brevity. “I’ve come to make you a deal. You need to volunteer to compete in this year’s Hunger Games.”

Neil almost laughs. “No, I most definitely do not.”

“Did you watch last year’s Hunger Games?” Stuart asks. It’s a stupid question for any one of Panem’s residents to ask – it is mandatory viewing nationwide - but it was around this time last year when Neil’s father caught up with him and his mother.

“I was preoccupied,” he says.

His uncle’s face is grim. “Kevin Day defied his adopted father and volunteered to compete,” he says. “There have been grumblings in the districts about some of the remarks he made while doing so - rebellion is brewing.”

“I don’t care,” Neil replies.

“If nothing more is done to augment those hints of rebellion it will be quickly crushed by the Capitol. Now is our only opportunity to fan the flames.”

“I don’t care,” Neil repeats. “You want me to, what, become a Tribute and prop Kevin up as some sort of figure for the oppressed to rally around? I’ll be killed. If not in the Games then by the President.”

“You need to do this,” his uncle presses.

“No,” says Neil. “You can’t make me. I’m not willing to die for your rebellion.”

“If you don’t do this,” his uncle says slowly, “I will deliver you back to your father.”

Neil’s breath catches. “What benefit will that be to you? I’ll be dead that way, too.”

“Nathan will surely kill you, after extensive torture,” his uncle agrees. “But if you do what I want you still have a chance.”

“A chance to murder innocent children and then be killed by Riko Moriyama,” Neil says sourly.

“Look on the bright side. If you do a good job at inciting rebellion, Riko will be deposed and probably killed. Then he won’t be able to kill you.”

“The rebels would have to win,” says Neil. “Last rebellion didn’t work out so well, did it? It’s the reason we have the Hunger Games.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Yes, I can see how that couldn’t possibly affect me, when you want to make me a visible instigator of revolution,” says Neil sarcastically.

“You really only have one choice here.”

“So when you said that you were here to make me a deal you meant that you were here to blackmail me into doing what you want,” says Neil hotly. “It’s still not going to work, though. My father has access to the Training Centre in the Capitol. He’ll be able to get to me there once I’m a Tribute.”

“As added incentive, if you do as I ask, your father will be killed before your arrival in the Capitol.”

“Don’t pretend you’re doing that for me. It’s a benefit for you, too,” Neil points out. “Taking out a Peacekeeper leader and one of President Moriyama’s biggest supporters since his coup will help fuel your rebellion.” Neil sighs heavily, knowing that he is fighting a losing battle but still resisting with every fibre of his being. “What do you think my mother - _your sister_ \- would think of you forcing me into the Hunger Games after everything she did to keep me out of them?”

His uncle grimaces. “Low blow, Nathaniel.”

“Watch me weep for your hurt feelings,” says Neil dryly.

“As much as I’m enjoying this conversation we should wrap it up now; you have a big day ahead of you. It’s simple: volunteer as Tribute, subtly disparage and dismiss the administration, talk about Kevin Day as if he’s a saviour and someone to rally behind. Or else. If you run, I will find you. You won’t get far without the help of my contacts. And I _will_ deliver you to your father for punishment.”

“I can’t believe that you are the ‘nice’ side of the family,” says Neil. “Just one problem though: Neil Josten is nineteen. I’m ineligible to volunteer.”

“Funny you should mention that,” Stuart says, giving Neil a handful of papers. “It turns out that he’s actually eighteen.”

Neil looks at the paperwork and finds new identification papers with his actual birthday. If he had stayed in District 2 this would have been the year that he would have volunteered to compete in the Hunger Games. He can’t believe that after all the years of running and sacrifice have brought him full circle. He gives Stuart a rude gesture and takes his leave.

The next day he boards the bus that has come to round up all the District 10 citizens to bring them into town for the Reaping. The population of the district is quite spread out, due to the numerous livestock farms and ranches, so the Peacekeepers send transportation for events such as the Reaping and the Victory tour.

Neil joins all the other children, aged twelve to eighteen, gathering in the square for the selection of Tributes. Many faces are worried, several children looking nauseated. Neil can’t bring himself to feel anything but numbness. He can feel his mother’s phantom blows and almost hear the vitriol that she would be spewing. How many times had she forbidden him from doing what he is about to do?

Neil has attended many Reapings, but very few where his name was entered into the lottery. His mother had taken advantage of his youthful appearance and short stature to have his identification papers list his age as eleven until he was fifteen. They’d spent the following year in District 4, a career district where older children who had been trained all their lives always volunteered as Tribute. Last year, they’d been in District 1, another career district, when his father had found them.

Katelyn Stark, the district’s escort, has arrived on stage. She is looking exotic and prosperous, just as all Capitol residents do when out in the districts. The television screens light up behind her, and the crowd watches the Reapings in districts 1 through 9. Finally it is their turn.

Katelyn makes pronouncements which Neil cannot hear through the buzzing in his ears. She reaches into the glass bowl containing all the names of the eligible girls in the district. The name she calls belongs to a young, blonde girl who Neil doesn’t know. Janie Smalls climbs onto the stage and lives up to her name, looking small and scared by herself in the spotlight.

Katelyn is the only person present who appears even slightly happy. She turns to pick the name of the boy Tribute. Again, the name belongs to someone who is too young. Neil waits for him to reach the stage before he acts. It is now or never.

“I volunteer,” he croaks out, barely loud enough for the people around him to hear. They turn and stare. He can’t feel his fingers but steps forward. He knows that this will end in his death, but it’s still better than the alternative. Avoiding his father is more important than avoiding the Games. _Sorry, Mom_ , he thinks. “I volunteer as Tribute!” he calls, his voice echoing around the square.

His mind is blank except for the realization that he’s going to miss the goats.

* * *

Wymack escorts him back to the Training Centre after Kathy Ferdinand’s interview. She’d recovered remarkably well after Neil had insulted the president on her live show, steering the conversation back to the Games. They’d watched highlights from Neil’s time in the arena - Neil had not been on screen that often since he’d used all the tricks his mother had taught him through the years in order to remain hidden in the forest-like arena - and had rehashed all his actions and decisions. Neil had flagged far before the interview was over. Now he just wants to go to bed and stay there.

Wymack is sending Neil considering glances as they make their way into the building. He must be confused. Neil had presented ‘Neil Josten’ as a quiet young man, who minded his own business and stayed out of conflict. Before the Games had begun Wymack had been desperately trying to get Neil to display a more appealing personality in order to attract sponsors. Neil, angry at his uncle for forcing his hand, had refused since he’d decided to set himself up to lose. It wasn’t until Janie died and his temper had been sparked along with his survival instincts that he considered that dying just to spite his uncle may not have been his smartest plan ever. Luckily, his sudden show of skill had coincided with the discovery of his parentage and he’d received several timely gifts from sponsors.

They stop by the elevator and Neil braces himself. Wymack turns to say something but is arrested by whatever look Neil is wearing. Instead of calling the elevator, he takes off towards the stairwell. Neil curses himself and follows. His exhaustion must prevent him from covering his true feelings about travelling in a confined space with a man of a similar age and size to his father.

Neil plods up the stairs without paying much attention until Wymack suddenly pulls up short between the seventh and eighth floors. He checks his watch and then turns towards Neil. Neil is unable to stop his flinch and Wymack frowns deeply.

“Kevin Day says, quote, Riko Moriyama is a weak bully?” Wymack asks.

“I may have paraphrased a little,” admits Neil. “Kevin may have been less explicit, but the message was the same.”

“It was not,” argues Wymack. “He was speaking about unity. He is a fan of the Hunger Games. It’s those who want rebellion that take his remarks out of context to propagate their views.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Neil says blandly. “Who wants rebellion? Everybody in Panem is perfectly happy with their lot in life.”

“There’s no surveillance here,” Wymack says. “It’s one of the few dead spots in the building. There’s another on the roof.”

“That’s nice,” says Neil. He is not stupid enough to speak of rebellion with someone whose allegiance he doesn’t know. Although he likes Wymack - he even tried to call him ‘David’ as requested but couldn’t manage it - he hasn’t lived this long by being trusting.

“I misjudged you,” Wymack says thoughtfully.

“Not your fault,” replies Neil. “You didn’t have all the information.”

“But I _should_ have,” insists Wymack. “As your mentor, I’m here to help you. That means that I need all the information you can give me.”

“Why should I have trusted you?” Neil asks, then, cutting off Wymack’s retort, “No, I’m actually asking. You knew my parents. My life experience hasn’t exactly made me trusting of Victors or those with ties to the Capitol.”

“Has your life experience made you capable of trusting anyone?”

“Touché.”

“This hard-on you have for antagonizing Riko Moriyama will lead nowhere good,” Wymack sighs. “He’s going to go after everybody you care about.”

“I don’t care about anybody,” Neil says.

“What about Kevin? Isn’t he important to your rebellion?”

“I don’t have a rebellion,” Neil retorts.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that, kid?”

“Again, you knew my parents. You can’t be surprised.”

“You have a point. Look, Neil, I don’t know what your stake in this is, but Kevin is not a good choice to hang your hopes on. He will never openly or willingly defy President Moriyama. Right now the president can’t touch you: you still need to go on your Victory tour where he will have you spouting his rhetoric to the populace and he can’t take the chance that the rebellion would make you a martyr if he has you killed. If you’re smart, you might still make it out alive if you just make it easy for everybody and do as he requests.”

“I have never once made anything easy for anybody.”

Wymack rolls his eyes. “Colour me shocked,” he says, and then resumes climbing the stairs.

The residential area of the Training Centre is located in a tower above it. Simply called ‘the Tower’ by its residents, it is one of the tallest buildings in the Capitol. Neil and Janie, as the Tributes of District 10, had stayed in a suite on the tenth floor along with Wymack, Katelyn, their stylists, and their prep teams. The Tower had been a bustling hub of activity then: filled with Tributes and their support staff, trainers, gamemakers, and past Victors. Now it is practically empty; those who reside in the Capitol having returned to their homes until next Hunger Games and most of the Victors having retreated to their districts. Twelve of the past Victors act as mentors to Tributes from their home districts every year (District 10 did not have a living Victor before Neil; Wymack is from District 11 but had volunteered to act as mentor to the District 10 Tributes), the rest of them are still required to travel to the Capitol during the Games in order to attend mandatory events. There is a small number of Victors who have no desire to live in the mansions they were awarded in their home districts and make their home in the Tower year round. Neil is now going to be living among them; he has no reason to go back to a district that he had lived in for less than a year, after all.

Wymack explains that there are only about a dozen Victors and some support staff that live there full time. They use the penthouse as their common room and cluster in the suites on the floors below, either three or four to a suite. Neil will have his own room but will share a suite with Matt Boyd, from District 6, and Seth Gordon, from District 12. Neil knows of both of them, of course, having watched and analyzed the Games when they competed - he was six the year that Seth won and eight when Matt did - but he’s not spoken to any Victors other than Wymack. He is not looking forward to it.

It does not take them long to reach the penthouse and Wymack ushers him inside. All the people gathered inside immediately stop what they are doing and stare at him with varying levels of curiosity and hostility. He feels like a bug on a microscope slide as he watches them examine him.

Matt and Seth are sitting in a group of couches chatting with Danielle Wilds from District 11 and Renee Walker from District 7. Dan is the only other Tribute that Wymack has mentored to victory and she looks at him with warm eyes. Renee, on the other hand, watches him with a calculating air. He knows that her subdued and placid exterior is a front: although she had been adopted and had changed her name after her victory she was still Natalie Shields inside. Natalie had been just thirteen when she’d been selected to participate in the Hunger Games and everyone had thought her cannon fodder. Instead, she had picked up a katana and eliminated eleven of her competitors on her way to victory, the most kills of any contestant ever.

Across the room Betsy Dobson, a Victor from District 3, sits with Robin Cross, from District 12, and Abby Winfield. Abby is not a Victor but is the Training Centre’s resident physician. Her apprentice, Aaron Minyard, is with them as is his cousin, Nicholas Hemmick, who works as the stylist for District 3.

Neil’s gaze is inexorably drawn to Kevin Day who is watching him with a complicated expression on his face.

“Nathaniel-” Kevin says in a broken voice.

“Tut, tut, Kevin,” says a voice from over Neil’s right shoulder. “You were watching television earlier. He said his name is _Neil_.”

Neil wheels around and finds Andrew Minyard standing menacingly in the entrance to the kitchen. He hadn’t been there when Neil had entered the suite and Neil hadn’t heard him approach. He appears greatly amused, but Neil knows better than to trust Andrew’s smile. It is chemically induced - the government had forcibly prescribed him mood altering drugs after his time in the arena had, quote, ‘shattered his mind’ causing him to suddenly and inexplicably kill his adopted brother during his Victory tour.

“Neil, Neil,” Andrew says in a sing-song voice. “As unpredictable as he is unreal. None of us were expecting you to make it out of the arena alive. I suppose congratulations are in order. As I have none to give, you’ll have to accept them from the others, Foxface.”

“Foxface,” Neil echoes, nonplussed.

Andrew waves a hand dismissively. “Well we’re not going to learn the actual names of all the little lambs sent for slaughter, are we?”

“Andrew,” Dan sighs from across the room. “Be nice.”

Andrew pretends to think about it. “No,” he eventually laughs.

Dan shakes her head but turns a smile toward Neil. “Hi, Neil, nice to meet you. I’m Dan Wilds, and this is-”

“I know who you are,” Neil cuts her off.

Dan appears affronted by his curtness, but Andrew is laughing again. “Yes, you have us at a disadvantage there, little fox,” he says. “You know us but who are you? Are you a quiet, shy child like you were pretending to be or are you something else entirely?”

“If Neil were a quiet child he never would have insulted President Moriyama on live television,” Renee says reasonably. Kevin whimpers and reaches for the glass in front of him.

“So true,” says Andrew. “So, Neil, tell us who you are. And remember, I hate liars.”

Neil knows that he should back down, that antagonizing Andrew will make his life even more difficult. But he also knows that perceived weakness or submission will not help him among these people. He smiles his twisted, cruel smile - the one he knows dares whoever he is talking with to try and break him - and says, “Would you believe me if I told you that I’m a pathological liar?”

“Christ,” mutters Wymack from behind him.

It takes a few moments for Andrew to process through his drug-hazed mind so his smile is slow to develop. “Oh, a feisty little rabbit,” he chuckles. “Maybe you’ll be slightly interesting after all. At least for a little while. It won’t last. It never does.”

“So I’m a rabbit now? Or is it a fox? Or a lamb? I’m confused.”

“Well that’s to be expected. Based on your actions I do not have high hopes for your intelligence,” Andrew says. “I think I’m going to have fun breaking you.”

“Andrew,” says Wymack, warningly.

“You?” Neil scoffs. “You can’t. You don’t know how.”

“Such fierce words from such a little creature,” Andrew says. Neil gives a pointed up-and-down look to Andrew’s five foot frame. Andrew smirks. “Let’s get one thing straight. You will learn to do as I say. I am in control here.”

“Are you?” asks Neil. “The mood-altering government-mandated drugs that you have no control over would indicate that you are not.”

“Christ,” says Wymack again, sounding more exasperated this time.

Andrew’s smile dims enough that Neil knows he scored a hit before it comes back full force. “You can’t cut down someone who is already in the gutter, so don’t even try,” he says. “Don’t forget that I’m a killer.”

“So am I,” says Neil. “We’re all killers here.”

“That’s enough,” Wymack breaks in. “Andrew, stay over there and leave the new kid alone. Neil… grow a better personality or something.”

“You kept asking me to talk to people before the Games,” Neil points out.

“And I’m regretting that now, believe me,” says Wymack, steering Neil over to sit with Dan’s group.

Neil sits with them and chats as politely as he can, aware of Andrew’s heavy stare that doesn’t leave him throughout the entire evening.

* * *

Neil spends the next three days mostly sleeping and then quietly sets about trying to integrate himself into regular daily life in the Tower. He studies the dynamics of all of the other residents in order to understand where he might fit. There are three distinct groups. Wymack, Abby, and Betsy make up one group which Neil takes to calling ‘the parents’ in his head. The three of them generally keep their own company but all act as support for the younger residents. Wymack and Dan are quite close, as are Andrew and Betsy due to their mentor-Tribute relationships. Abby patches everyone up, when needed, and the three of them all work to smooth out potential problems.

The other two groups seem to be mainly divided by age. Dan is indisputably the ringleader of the elder group - she, Matt, Renee, Seth, and Neil’s stylist Allison (who Neil is surprised to find also lives in the tower) socialize almost exclusively with each other. There are other divisions within the group - Dan and Matt are romantically involved, as are Allison and Seth, although their relationship is much more volatile - but the five of them are clearly friends.

The third group revolves around Andrew. Kevin has some sort of relationship with him that Neil can’t figure out. He doesn’t think it’s sexual since they barely seem to tolerate each other, but then again Neil really doesn’t understand Seth and Allison’s relationship, either. Andrew’s twin, Aaron, and his cousin, Nicky, spend all their time with Andrew and Kevin. Robin orbits them like a satellite. She is one of only two people that seem to be able to cross the divide between the groups. She often spends time with Dan’s group, but since she’s only sixteen and they are at least a decade older than her, they tend to dote on her like a child. She explains to Neil that when she was chosen as a Tribute for District 12 Seth was supposed to act as her mentor. He’d been too high on morphling to be of much help, but Andrew had apparently unexpectedly stepped in to help her.

Renee is the other person who socializes outside her group: she and Andrew have a strange friendship. Dan believes that they are involved romantically, but Allison - who, as Neil’s stylist, spent a lot of time with him before he entered the arena and tended to fill their time together with gossip about her friends since Neil was stubbornly unfriendly - insists that they are not. Neil agrees with Allison, he thinks the relationship between Renee and Andrew probably has more to do with their similarities as they are the youngest two Tributes to ever win the Hunger Games.

Neil can still remember the year that Andrew competed. His mother had just taken him from his father and, at eleven years old, he was in his last year of true ineligibility for the Reaping. They’d been living in District 3 with his uncle and his mother had clutched him so tightly as the Tributes were chosen that she’d left purple finger-shaped bruises on his arms that had lasted a week.

Neil had been excited - he’d only ever attended the Reapings in District 2 where every year a different eighteen year old volunteered as Tribute. He’d watched as a girl was forced, weeping, onto the stage and then a small, frightened boy’s name was called.

There was a disruption near the front of the crowd where the youngest children of the district had lined up.

“I volunteer!” a small voice called in a clear tone.

Everybody watched in shock as a tiny, blond, twelve year old child had ascended the stage.

“Andrew, no!” a distraught woman had called from the spectator section.

The district’s escort, Erik Klose, had been incredibly conflicted, making sure that Andrew understood what he was doing. Andrew was very adamant that he did.

Later that night his mother had clutched him to her painfully and hissed in his ear, “Never, _ever_ do what that boy did, do you hear me? _Never_.”

The existence of a volunteer twelve year old Tribute had been big news in the Capitol and the story became even more unbelievable when the story of his past had been revealed.

While Neil’s mother had been squeezing the life out of him another family had been having an uncomfortable conversation. Luther Hemmick had noticed the uncanny resemblance between his nephew and the young Tribute from District 3. Questioning his sister had resulted in the truth coming out: she’d given birth to twins, but with her husband’s recent death she couldn’t handle two babies. She’d given one up for adoption and thought that he would be placed with a nice family in the Capitol. Instead he’d been shuffled out to the districts where he’d moved houses frequently until he was adopted by Cass and Richard Spear.

Luther had spoken with the media, imploring that Andrew be made retroactively ineligible for the Games. He was a Capitol child after all. Capitol children were not supposed to be Tributes. His pleas had been denied, but the interest in Andrew had grown. He’d received many sponsor gifts while in the arena, despite his quiet and serious demeanor.

Still, he was a twelve year old facing experienced fighters. He was hardly expected to succeed.

He shocked everybody, though, when he won using a combination of stealth and intelligence. He’d spent the first part of the Games hiding from everybody, slowing putting his plan into place. Coming from District 3 he had experience with electronics, the industry of that district. He managed to disarm and dig up all the bombs that were located under the Tributes’ starting plates and carefully placed them around the career Tributes’ camp.

In most Hunger Games, the career Tributes, those from Districts 1, 2, and 4, usually team up, turning on each other once they rid the arena of everyone else. In Andrew’s year, the final six competitors had been Andrew and an alliance of five career Tributes. They’d agreed that they’d hunt him down together before they turned on each other. Then, as they regrouped in their camp, Andrew detonated the charges. With one single explosion he became the youngest Victor ever.

Of course, his subsequent murder of his brother, Drake Spear, had led to his forced medication and Luther Hemmick had dropped all claims to him. He’d taken the last name Minyard anyway, and Nicky and Aaron had both eventually made their way into being support staff for the Hunger Games in order to live with him.

Neil avoids Andrew’s group as much as possible. Whenever they are in the same room Kevin stares at him intensely enough to make him uncomfortable and Andrew’s weighted gaze often follows him. Andrew’s medication rarely allows him to be quiet for long, though, so his forced good cheer and cackling instigating insults often fill the room as well. Neil is not very good at ignoring provocation and members of Dan’s group start ushering him away whenever his avoidance tactics fail. Neil’s not worried. Andrew doesn’t seem capable of losing his temper while medicated and responds to all of Neil’s barbed comments with amusement.

There is not a lot to do for the Victors day-to-day. They have access to the Training Centre’s facilities and most of them spend at least a part of each day there, if only to stave off boredom. Dan assures him that they will all be busier once his Victory tour approaches. There will be mandatory appearances at various events. Neil is unsure why she thinks this may comfort him in any way.

Neil spends a few hours each day running the track. He would rather be able to run outside; he misses the trails he used to follow in District 10.

Kevin is the only person who spends more time in the Training Centre than Neil does. He spends almost all of his free time on working out and weapons training. Andrew joins him periodically, but spends most of his time sitting on the sidelines staring into space. Neil is reluctantly impressed by how much Andrew can lift in the weight room, though.

Seth, who has shown nothing but disdain for Neil, does not show much less for Kevin. “He does know his Games are over, doesn’t he?” he asks one day. “What does he hope to accomplish by continuing his training?”

Neil shrugs. “What else does he have to do?” he asks. “Growing up he spent all day, every day training for the Hunger Games; he probably doesn’t know how to do anything else. I was the same after my mother took me from my father.”

He suddenly has the attention of everyone in the room and Neil realizes that this is the first time he’s ever volunteered any information about his past. He shifts uncomfortably. Matt sends him a sunny smile.

Seth scoffs. “It’s pathetic, is what it is.”

“How would you have him spend his days?” challenges Neil. “Getting high, like you do? How is that any better?”

“Look here, shortbus,” Seth starts angrily.

Allison cuts him off, “He has a point.”

“It’s not like Kevin’s alcohol consumption is any healthier,” says Dan.

“I do not think any of us should be judging how anyone else copes with the reality of being a Victor,” says Renee mildly. Dan looks chastised.

“I don’t see why you care,” Neil says to Seth. “How does him spending his days training affect you?”

“Of course you would defend him, you’re just like him,” spits Seth. “Entitled and arrogant, the both of you. Neither of you had to compete in the games - you were free and clear and then you volunteered. Not like us, who never had a choice.”

“Maybe we had good reasons,” Neil retorts.

“There’s never a good reason to sign up to slaughter other children unless you’re a psychopath.”

“Who says I’m not?” says Neil. “Besides I can think of at least two reasons to volunteer as Tribute.”

“Yeah?” asked Dan. “What are they?”

“Stupidity or desperation.”

“What about a quest for glory?” asks Renee.

“He already mentioned that one,” says Allison. “You heard him: stupidity.”

“Which was it for you?” asks Matt curiously.

“You heard the little freak talking to Kathy Ferdinand,” says Seth. “He’s here because he’s Kevin’s number one fan.”

Neil rolls his eyes. “And that _must_ be the truth because I’ve never lied about anything else ever,” he says sarcastically. “You’re deluded if you think that I am here because I want to be or that I had any more choice in the matter than you did.”

Seth gives him a considering look. “Well, then, maybe you aren’t as stupid as I thought you were,” he allows.

“Maybe I am,” counters Neil, contrary to the end.

* * *

After Neil catches up on all the sleepless nights he spent leading up to and during the Hunger Games he finds that proper sleep is almost impossible. He spends his nights tossing and turning; whenever he is able to drift away he is wrenched awake by nightmares. Visions of his mother’s death and his days spent with his father are twisted up with his time in the arena. The dead faces of his fellow Tributes haunt him, whispering retribution while his father eggs them on. His mother’s charred corpse demands why he has betrayed her.

Awakening one night after a particularly upsetting dream he finds that he can’t stay in his room any longer. Quietly, so that he doesn’t alert either Matt or Seth, he makes his way out of his room and up to the roof to get some fresh air.

Gasping, he leans as far as possible over the railing, thinking about how much easier everything would be if he just let himself fall.

“There’s a force field,” says a bored voice from behind him.

He turns to find Andrew sitting a few feet away, nonchalantly smoking a cigarette and holding a bottle of whiskey. There’s something off about him: it takes Neil several moments to realize that he is not smiling. His medication keeps him manic; he can’t sleep when he’s dosed, but his withdrawal hits him soon enough and hard enough that he can’t sleep a full night without it. Instead, he has a different medication, laced with sedatives, to stave off his withdrawal and force him to sleep. He obviously hasn’t taken it yet tonight, but he hasn’t taken more of his regular medication, either. He is using the whiskey to stave off the worst of the withdrawal. This is the closest to sober than Neil has ever seen him. There’s nothing in his eyes. Not even the usual spark of malice that Neil usually sees directed towards him.

“Force field?” Neil asks. “You know from personal experience?”

“Apparently some of the Tributes in early years felt that suicide was easier than stepping foot inside the arena. The Capitol can’t have Tributes dying before the Games start, especially not on their own terms.” Andrew appears completely detached from what he is saying, but his eyes never leave Neil.

Neil turns back around to survey the nighttime city vista. “What exactly are we allowed to do on our own terms?” he asks lightly. “As soon as we’re Tributes we belong to them.”

“Before that, even,” says Andrew, getting up and joining Neil at the railing. “It’s too bad, really. I could have gotten rid of you with one push.”

“If you can’t think of another way to kill me, you’re not trying very hard,” Neil points out. “I count six knives hidden on your person, and those are only the obvious ones. I’m sure you have more.”

“I have enough,” Andrew says. He gives Neil a sidelong glance full of appraisal before continuing, “Maybe I want to keep you around for entertainment purposes. Kevin’s reactions to your insults of Moriyama are alone worth putting up with your presence.”

“Aw, am I growing on you after all?”

“Like a fungus,” agrees Andrew, then, after a thoughtful pause, “I do not understand you. You are a runner who voluntarily put himself in the spotlight, you affect a bland personality to fly under the radar but then antagonize the president, you acted like prey in the arena until you were suddenly a predator, you say that you admire Kevin but you’ve been avoiding him.”

“What’s your point?” asks Neil.

“You are not adding up properly.”

“I’m not a math problem.”

“But I’ll still solve you,” promises Andrew.

Neil snorts. “I can’t imagine it’s that complicated a puzzle. I’m simple, really: I want to live.”

“Your actions say otherwise. I would not believe that even if you hadn’t called the most powerful man in the country a coward on live television.”

“Maybe things are different from my point of view,” says Neil shortly.

“Truth is irrefutable and untainted by bias. Sunrise, death: these are truths, independent of your point of view.”

“Believe what you want. I’m nothing special.”

“You are interesting,” says Andrew. “Which makes you dangerous. I should know better by now. Maybe I’m not as smart as I thought I was. Should I be disappointed or amused?” The last few sentences are spoken in an undertone, almost as if he doesn’t mean for Neil to hear him.

“What do you mean?” Neil asks.

“I mean that you are a pipe dream. You’ll be gone before long.”

“You think I’m going to run?”

“No,” says Andrew shortly. "You are not going anywhere. You are going to stay right here and cause all kinds of trouble."

“So you think I’m going to die,” Neil concludes.

He waits, but Andrew doesn’t say anything more. He simply flicks his cigarette butt over the railing and retreats back inside.

* * *

His impromptu encounter with Andrew leaves Neil full of curiosity about the man. The story spread by the media and echoed by Dan’s group is that Andrew’s medication is for everybody’s safety. Without it he is unpredictable and destructive. But Neil’s experience with a semi-sober Andrew shows that the opposite is true. Medicated Andrew would stab him just for shits and giggles while sober Andrew was the picture of control and restraint. Neil is not particularly afraid of Andrew at any time, but on the roof he’d felt the safest he ever had in his presence.

The medication, Neil deduces, must be some form of punishment; a way to strip Andrew of his control. Thinking back on it now, Neil realizes that even twelve year old Andrew showed nothing but iron control and patience during his Hunger Games. The murder of his adopted brother is an aberration for him, not the norm. Neil wonders what prompted it.

Neil tries to subtly interrogate his fellow Victors. Robin is friendly and chatty, but doesn’t have any useful information, while Renee just smiles at him indulgently and gently rebuffs all his questions. Neil even tries to talk with Nicky and Aaron. Nicky seems thrilled that someone new is talking with him and regales Neil with personal stories but doesn’t have much to say about Andrew. Talking to Aaron is a bust; he simply glares at Neil and leaves the room.

Less than two weeks after their last meeting on the roof, Neil finds himself waking up in a panic. He again makes his way outside to lean over the railing. Andrew doesn’t say anything at first, simply offering Neil the bottle of whiskey. Neil shakes his head no, so Andrew tries again, this time offering his cigarette. Neil takes it, inhaling the smoke and thinking of his mother, letting the acrid smell chase away the terror of his nightmare.

Andrew lights another cigarette. “I hear that you’ve been asking questions about me, little fox,” he says. “Why are you interested?”

“You know what they say about foxes and curiosity,” Neil replies.

“I thought that was cats,” says Andrew. “And they say it kills them.”

“But satisfaction brings them back.”

“So you won’t come back if I deny you?”

Neil shrugs. “You’re the one who said you were going to solve me. Maybe I wanted to return the favour.”

“You’d make a wonderful Avox,” muses Andrew. “Silent but pretty to look at.”

“Oh, original,” says Neil dryly. “You’re not the first to suggest cutting out my tongue.”

“I am shocked,” Andrew deadpans.

“Well, you know me. Unpredictable.”

“And unreal,” says Andrew thoughtfully. “Maybe you’re a side effect of the drugs.”

“A hallucination sent to annoy you?” Neil guesses.

“I would have said ‘distract’ but I suppose you’re talented enough to multitask.”

“I can never tell if you’re complimenting me.”

“When in doubt, assume that I am not,” says Andrew.

“You said I was pretty.”

“Did I? I don’t recall.”

Neil feels his lips twist into a smile. “It was forty seconds ago. Your memory can’t be that bad.”

“My memory is perfect,” says Andrew. “I clearly remember you evading my question about why you are interested in anything about me.”

“I didn’t evade it,” argues Neil. “I implied it was just curiosity.”

“Well, then, can I interest you in a game?”

“It depends,” says Neil. “Is the game the Hunger Games?”

“I think we’ve both had enough of that, don’t you?”

“Games aren’t really my forte,” Neil says.

“Whereas I am generally well known for my playful nature,” Andrew replies. “I’m sure even you could manage this game. Although, the fact that you are a liar might hamper you.”

“I am what I was raised to be.”

“The game is this: I will make statements about your life. You simply have to answer yes or no; hopefully, this will curb your instinct to lie. For every time I guess correctly I will tell you one truth about me.”

“What’s to stop me from lying to you?” asks Neil.

“Nothing,” says Andrew. “Your curiosity, maybe. If you never answer ‘yes’ then I won’t answer any of your questions.”

“You’ll answer whatever I want to know?”

“Within reason,” clarifies Andrew. “I’ll give you something of equal weight. If I guess that your father was heavy handed during your childhood and you admit it-” he waits for a beat for Neil to quietly say, “Yes.” “-then the truth I give you will of equal weight. For instance, for that obvious answer I offer the fact that my own childhood was also unhappy.”

Neil considers. He does want to learn more about Andrew and if Andrew asks anything he doesn’t want to divulge he can just answer ‘no’.

“Okay,” Neil says. “Not tonight, but okay.”

Andrew just nods and the two of them stand together in silence until Neil yawns and heads back inside.

It isn’t until later, when he’s back in bed trying to fall asleep that he realizes that he never considered that Andrew might lie.

* * *

After their agreement, Neil meets Andrew several nights a week on the roof. Neil still avoids him during the day, since his drugged cheer is hard to reconcile with the Andrew that Neil is beginning to know. Also, Kevin is almost always around him during the day. Kevin has moved on from staring at Neil to lecturing him about the importance of obeying President Moriyama. Neil had been annoyed by the staring but this is much worse. He doesn’t know why Kevin believes his lectures will cause Neil to do anything but the opposite of what Kevin orders. They knew each other as children; Neil hasn’t changed that much.

Neil has given up a lot of information about his childhood with his father and his time on the run with his mother. Andrew still hasn’t been able to guess his motivations for volunteering as Tribute, nor his relationship to the rebellion. He knows that Neil must have some connection to them - he came to the same conclusions as Wymack had following Neil’s interview with Kathy Ferdinand - but, based on his guesses, he remains convinced that Neil is actively and willingly working with them.

Neil learns quite a lot about Andrew’s past as well. He learns about the complicated relationships between Andrew and his biological family - that Nicky lives with him and Aaron because his parents hadn’t been happy with either his sexuality or his desire to be a stylist and had disowned him, leaving Andrew and Aaron as his only family. Aaron was present because of a deal made before Andrew’s Hunger Games. Luther Hemmick had arranged a meeting between the twins before Andrew went into the arena. Andrew had no expectation of survival, but Aaron had made him promise that he would try to win. In return, Aaron would stick with him and they could be brothers for real.

Andrew is always waiting for him when he makes his way to the roof. He lights a cigarette for Neil and either joins him against the railing or Neil sits beside him. They don’t always play their game - sometimes Neil can’t handle it - and on those nights they sit in silence.

Andrew is getting better at phrasing his statements. Case in point: “From a certain point of view you could be considered to have caused the death of both of your parents,” he says. “Yes or no?”

Neil feels the ghost of a smile on his face. “Good one,” he says. His mother was killed because of her desire to keep him from his father and his father was killed in an ‘accidental’ weapon discharge while training future Tributes, following Uncle Stuart's promise to get rid of him. “Yes.”

“So your father’s death wasn’t an accident?”

“It’s not your turn,” Neil chastises. Andrew makes a ‘go on, then’ gesture and Neil thinks of what he wants to ask. “Why were you so desperate to volunteer for the Games? And, no. It wasn’t an accident.”

Andrew nods. “The timing of his death is suspicious, now that we know who you are.” He thinks for a couple minutes. Neil has learned that Andrew likes to take his time to organize his thoughts before responding, probably so that he doesn’t give away more than he wants to. Neil waits patiently for his answer, knowing that pressuring him will be counterproductive. “I needed to get away from Drake,” Andrew finally says, after a large swallow of whiskey.

“Your adopted brother,” supplies Neil.

“Yes. He had… let’s say inappropriate ideas about what constituted brotherly affection,” Andrew admits. Neil feels queasy. He’s not one to expect the best from people, but he somehow still manages to be disappointed when humanity always shows their worst. “He was eighteen that year and he wasn’t chosen as Tribute in the Reaping. It was the only way to get away from him.”

“I was there, you know,” says Neil, offering his own truth. “In the square, when you volunteered. My mother left bruises that night, when she was making me promise that I would never to do what you had.”

A muscle tightens in Andrew’s jaw. “You were in District 3,” he says. “But you never met the Spears.” It is a statement, but it is also a question requiring clarification.

“No,” says Neil. “My mother definitely didn’t let me out of arm’s reach and I wasn’t allowed to meet anyone. We weren’t even in District 3 for very long. Her paranoia never had us staying anywhere for any length of time.”

Andrew digests this and they sit in silence for a time.

“It’s your turn,” Neil eventually says.

“No more tonight,” replies Andrew.

* * *

Neil settles into a routine of days spent with Dan’s group, sometimes arguing with Kevin or socializing with Nicky, and nights spent with Andrew on the roof. He grows close with Dan and Matt and Robin and to a lesser degree with Renee (he does not trust her placid exterior) and Allison (who is a Capitol resident and spends a lot of time around Seth). He tries to keep his distance, cognizant of Wymack’s warning - _He’s going to go after everybody you care about_ \- but Matt has seemingly adopted him as his best friend and Dan treats him like a little brother and Robin is grateful that she has a friend that is close to her in age. With his days filled, he does not notice time passing and is therefore surprised when it turns out almost six months have passed and it is time for his Victory tour.

He has to take a small entourage with him. Wymack is going, as is Katelyn. Allison and her assistants, Roland and Marissa, will be accompanying them as well in order to keep Neil looking fashionable. Allison expresses satisfaction that she’d be able to get her hands on Neil’s hair again, because: “It’s a disaster, Neil. Don’t you ever look in a mirror?”

The tour will start in District 10, before making a stop in each of the other eleven districts in descending order and will culminate in a large of banquet at the president’s mansion and another interview with Kathy Ferdinand. Neil is dreading it. Maybe he can pull an Andrew: murder someone on his first stop and the whole rest of the tour will get cancelled. Being drugged against his wishes would be a downside, though.

“This is the worst thing to ever happen to me,” he moans as he sits with Wymack on board the train, travelling to District 10.

Wymack raises an eyebrow and gives him an incredulous look. “The _worst_ thing…” he trails off and shakes his head. “Have you always been this dramatic?” he asks.

“Probably,” Neil says, attempting a joke. “I wasn’t allowed to display my own personality for most of my life, so it’s new for me, too.”

Wymack is still giving him a strange look and Neil realizes that he’s grown so used to speaking with Andrew that he’s being more honest than he ever has been before.

Neil waves a dismissive hand. “Whatever,” he says. “You know it was funny. Andrew would have laughed.” Or, he would have gotten that little crinkle beside his eye that Neil has decided means that he is smiling. He thinks that he is getting better at reading Andrew’s microexpressions.

“Andrew laughs at everything,” Wymack points out, and Neil startles. He had forgotten that the rest of the world only sees Andrew when he’s manic.

Rather than clear up the miscommunication he nods. “Exactly,” he says. “Proof that I’m hilarious.”

“Christ,” Wymack mutters. “Just what we need. You thinking that you’re a comedian.”

“It’s not my fault that you have no sense of humour.”

Wymack’s reply is cut off by Katelyn entering their train compartment to go over the day’s events with Neil.

She hands him cue cards that have a speech printed out for him. The speech is much as he expected: thanking the Capitol for their generosity, reminding the districts that their children are taken to the Hunger Games so that the futility of their past rebellion will never be forgotten, praising President Moriyama, renouncing his own past remarks as the ‘folly of a young and misguided mind’. Neil reads through them quickly and sends Katelyn a flat look.

“This sounds like something a robot programmed to kiss Riko Moriyama’s ass might say,” he says.

“Good,” says Katelyn shortly. “That is what I was aiming for.”

“Neil, I’m not sure you realize the seriousness of your situation,” says Wymack. “You do not want to make yourself even more of an enemy of the state than you already are.”

Neil of course knows that he doesn’t have long to live, but during his days at the Tower it has taken a back burner for him. He’s kicking himself now, realizing that he’s about to be thrown back into the frying pan. Or is it the fire? He’s not sure; he thinks he’s mixing his metaphors.

“Okay,” he says, holding his hands up in the universal sign for surrender. “I’ll stick to the script.”

He does not stick to the script.

He doesn’t think it’s completely his fault, though. The unrest throughout District 10 is noticeable as soon as he arrives. Peacekeeper presence is higher than he’s ever seen and the crowd in the square waiting for him is restless. Wymack takes one glance outside and sends Allison and Neil’s prep team to wait on the train.

The agenda for each Victory tour stop is almost identical: Neil makes a speech to the crowd, then spends the afternoon socializing with notable dignitaries of the district.

The violence in the air is almost palpable when Neil steps out onto the stage following Katelyn’s introduction. Peacekeepers line the square. On stage with him there is a holographic screen projecting Janie Smalls’ face. Her family is clustered below it.

He falters a little. He has aggressively not thought about how he was going to come face to face with the other Tributes’ families.

He starts his prepared speech but the look on Janie’s mother’s face stops him.

Janie had not been his ally in the arena. He’d tried not to learn anything about her during the lead up to the Games knowing that both of them would be dead soon. She was just a kid, innocent in a way that Neil had never been.

He’d run into her a couple times once they were in the arena. They’d shared some information and wished each other well. Neil wasn’t even trying particularly hard to preserve his own life at that point, there was no way he was going to take on her life as well.

The sound of her screams close by had attracted his attention and he’d crept towards them. He’d found the four Tributes from Districts 1 and 2 and the male Tribute from District 5 taunting her, taking pleasure in her anguish and fear before they killed her. He felt the temper that he had inherited from his father burning through him. He made up his mind there and then: he would not rest - would use all the skills imparted by his late parents - until he had eliminated those five Tributes. His righteous fury had lasted until he’d killed the last one with a knife to the jugular and had won the Games.

“Janie did not deserve her fate,” he says now. “I admittedly did not know her very well, but she was sweet and liked to sing. She should not have been killed in retribution of something that happened seventy five years ago.” The restlessness of the crowd is growing and some are nodding along with his words. “I know there is nothing that I can do to bring her back,” he says turning to her family, “but I am donating one month of my winnings per year to her family and giving them my house in the Victors’ Village to do with as they please.”

There is a commotion and a small group pushes their way to the centre of the crowd. There are all sporting a stylized sun on their clothes. It is the symbol that Kevin had worn into the arena, a pin that his mother had also worn into the arena when she had won her Games. Neil had worn a similar pin; it is the same symbol used by his uncle’s network of contacts. It is now the unofficial symbol of resistance.

“District 2!” one of the older men yells at Neil, then gives him a two-fingered salute. It is a gesture common in District 2 - it is given to each Tribute when they volunteer for the Games. It means good luck and denotes respect. Neil had given Janie that salute the last time he’d seen her. “Stand together!” the man yells, as Peacekeepers being pushing their way through the crowd to get to him. “Resist!” he shouts. The crowd turns into a mob to prevent the Peacekeepers from reaching him.

The televisions around the square that were simulcasting Neil’s speech all turn to static and Neil is ushered off the stage, surrounded by Peacekeepers. The rest of the day’s events are cancelled and Neil is escorted with Katelyn and Wymack back to the train.

Katelyn gives him a withering look and tells him to do better next time, before stomping off in a tizzy.

“So you’re committed to suicide by Moriyama, then?” Wymack asks later that evening as the train heads toward District 11. “In that case, it would have been easier for you to just take a knife to the throat in the arena.”

Neil shrugs. “Pesky survival instincts kept me alive during the Games,” he explains. “Besides, why is death by Moriyama worse than the slower options that everyone else is choosing?”

“Explain.”

Neil counts on his fingers. “Morphling, alcohol, depression. Name one Victor that isn’t a broken shell of a human being.”

“I’m doing okay,” Wymack says dryly.

“Are you?” asks Neil. “How? You were the winner of the last quarter Quell, where there were twice as many Tributes as usual.”

“I don’t need my biography, kid, I lived it.”

“Yeah, you survived while forty-seven others died, only for what? So that you could mentor Tributes from the poorest districts year after year? There have been twenty-four Hunger Games since you won; you’ve mentored forty-eight Tributes and only Dan and I survived. I think I’d prefer to antagonize the president into killing me rather than have to watch two kids under my care disappear into the arena each year and never return.”

“You might, but I have hope for a better future.”

“Hope is meaningless to people like us. No one has ever given me anything my whole life and I’ll bet the same is true for you. If you want a better future then go out and make one.”

“Don’t forget that I want to help you, Neil. Stop acting like I’m against you. What do you want from me?”

“Fewer dire pronouncements about my lifespan would be nice. I get enough of those from Kevin.”

“I’m just trying to keep you alive, Neil,” says Wymack, sounding absolutely exhausted.

“Me shutting up now isn’t going to help. The only way I survive the president’s wrath is if the rebels distract him and take him out of power,” Neil admits.

Wymack just watches him for a few beats. “Alright,” he finally says quietly. “Alright.”

* * *

The riot of District 10 is not repeated. Neil sees evidence of rebellion in most districts. Districts 11 and 12, the poorest districts along with District 10, have enormous Peacekeepers presence. Neil delivers his prepared speech, allowing his tone more than his words to convey his thoughts about the President and the Capitol. The crowds salute him afterwards.

Allison has started dressing him in clothes with sun motifs, much to Katelyn’s displeasure. She is practically having conniptions, trying to get Neil to give his speech more enthusiastically. Neil just shrugs and blandly tells her that he’s just reading what she wrote.

In District 5 he faces a less receptive crowd; up on the stage with him is the family of one of the Tributes he killed. Neil delivers his scripted comments as quickly as possible without once making eye contact with anybody and leaves as soon as he is allowed. He knows that it will get worse as he moves into the richer districts that have closer ties to the Capitol. He hasn’t been able to sleep at all worrying about going back to his father's district for the first time since he left.

He is walking toward the square in District 2 when he hears a very familiar and unwelcome laugh and freezes. Wymack is behind him and stops short, swearing, in order to avoid running into him.

“Junior!” a woman’s voice calls, thick with suppressed glee. Neil doesn’t have to look to know who it is, but he does anyway. Lola Malcolm has aged well. She is not that old; she and her brother Romero won back-to-back Hunger Games about twenty years ago. When Neil had been growing up she had always been wherever Nathan had. She’d been responsible for punishment of the children at Nathan’s training academy and they’d all learned to fear her. Nathan had mostly wanted to discipline his son himself but she is still responsible for a good portion of Neil’s childhood trauma. Her unexpected presence sticks him to the spot.

“Lola,” says Wymack in a forbidding voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, Davie, have you taken little Junior on as one of your lost causes?” Lola asks in a teasing voice. “Sadly, he doesn’t belong to you.”

“He doesn’t belong to anyone but himself.”

“How you don’t choke on your idealism, I’ll never understand,” Lola muses. “He belongs to the Capitol. But hush now, I have business with Junior.” Turning to Neil she reaches out to touch him. He slaps her hand away. “Feisty!” she laughs. “I remember. When the Prez hands you over to me, I’ll have fun beating that out of you.”

“Fuck off, Lola,” Neil manages to say.

She just smiles. “Riko says that he has something special planned just for you,” she coos. “But that once you learn your place he’s going to give you to me to play with.”

“Fuck _off_ , Lola,” Neil repeats. “Leave me alone or you’ll find yourself in the same situation as my father.”

Lola’s smile disappears instantly. “What do you mean by that, Junior?”

“Nothing that’s any of your business,” says Wymack briskly, bringing his hand up to rest on Neil’s shoulder. “Now do as he requested and kindly fuck off.” Wymack digs his fingers into Neil’s muscle and steers him around Lola.

Neil spends the rest of the day in a daze. The crowd calls him a traitor and spits in his direction; the families of the two tributes that he killed are not much better, but Neil doesn’t notice. His mind is spinning with Lola’s words. What does Riko Moriyama have planned for him?

* * *

When Neil arrives back in the Capitol he wants nothing more than to retreat to his room in the Tower and sleep for days. Instead, he has a banquet to attend at the president’s mansion. He has spent the last couple weeks enduring Allison and his prep team fussing over his clothes and appearance before each stop, but his stress over seeing Riko Moriyama later means that his already limited patience is almost nonexistent. He never copes well to having their hands all over him, primping and polishing, but after Roland and Marissa start making their usual sexually charged comments about his appearance it’s all he can do to keep from snapping at them.

Allison must see something in his expression because she sends her assistants out of the room before taking care of the finishing touches herself.

Neil’s relationship with Allison is strange. He had wanted to hate her, just as he had wanted to hate everyone who had anything to do with the Hunger Games. She had steamrolled over his animosity and he’d come to respect her uncompromising attitude and habit of spouting harsh truths. Now they exist in a kind of equilibrium - not quite friends since Neil won’t let himself feel that deeply for her, but allies. Neil is suspicious of her motives since she seems perfectly happy to dress him in clothing and accessories that subtly show support for the brewing rebellion.

She doesn’t say anything while fixing his hair, keeping her touch light and impersonal. She keeps him turned away from the mirror; she knows better by now than to try to get him to look at his reflection. When she’s finished she gives him a fierce smile. “Go knock ‘em dead,” she says.

“Literally?” Neil asks with interest.

She shakes her head fondly and shoves him out of the dressing room.

The party is mind numbingly dull. President Moriyama does not approach him but spends the evening sending him triumphant and smug looks, which is arguably worse. Anything that leaves Riko Moriyama looking that happy is likely going to be very bad for Neil.

The other guests are mainly high-ranking members of the president’s administration and their families. They treat Neil as if he were a particularly clever dog. They laugh a little about what they call his ‘past outbursts’ but dismiss his actual words. He has an excruciating conversation with a politician’s wife who takes great pains to explain the ‘truth’ about life in the districts to him. Yes, she admits, the districts are poorer and have fewer amenities than the Capitol, but the people living in them are happy. She insists that the people of the districts aren’t as complex as Capitol residents and prefer a simpler life.

Neil has a pretty impressive rant ready to unleash on her when Allison suddenly appears at his elbow and steers him away. She introduces him to a man that he knows is James Rhemann, the head gamemaker. Neil does not have a lot of affection for the man who spends his time designing arenas for the express purpose of making children killing each other more exciting for spectators.

“So you’re the man who tried to set me on fire,” he says evenly. During his Games, a spontaneous forest fire had sprouted around him. He has since learned that he’d wandered too far away from the other competitors and needed to be steered back towards them. He’d sustained several severe burns.

Rhemann gives an indulgent laugh. “I didn’t think that anyone would make it far enough into the woods to engage the outer defenses,” he says. “Your tenacity is admirable.”

“Admirable,” Neil echoes. “That’s not what I usually hear.”

“Ill-advised, maybe. Dangerous, certainly,” Rhemann allows. “But admirable.” He pauses and appraises Neil. “Yes, you are interesting, aren’t you?”

“I’m nothing special,” Neil says uncomfortably, thinking of the last person to call him interesting and how he would much rather to be silently sharing space with Andrew on the roof of the Tower right now.

“Ah, but I disagree,” Rhemann says. “Maybe I just see more than others. My job means that I must be a keen observer of human nature, after all.”

“In order to learn the easiest ways to kill them?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that. A great deal of imagination is involved. But, yes, I suppose I am a connoisseur of death.”

“Congratulations,” Neil says dryly.

“I’m sure my knowledge will come in useful, and not only in the obvious ways,” says Rhemann. “For instance, what is one thing that will kill even the most invincible of men?”

“Poison,” Neil guesses. Rhemann shakes his head. “Guns? Rocket launchers?”

Rhemann laughs. “You’re far too literal, Neil,” he says. “Here’s another hint. ‘This thing all things devours: Birds, beasts, trees, flowers; Gnaws iron, bites steel; Grinds hard stones to meal; Slays king, ruins town, And beats high mountain down’.”

Neil is nonplussed. “...A nuclear bomb?” he ventures.

Rhemann sighs in disappointment at Neil’s undoubtedly blank expression. “Not a fan of classic literature then? Time, Neil. I’m talking about time.”

“Okay,” says Neil disinterestedly, glancing around searching for a way to extract himself from this conversation.

Rhemann takes his pocket watch out and offers it to Neil. “I’ve recently been contemplating the complexities of time,” he says. “I’ve amassed quite an impressive collection of watches. Would you like to see?”

“Why?” Neil asks baldly.

Rhemann just watches him levelly. “I have a premonition that one day soon you will think back to this conversation and find it extremely helpful.”

Neil highly doubts it, but takes the offered pocket watch anyway. The face of it is divided into twelve sections, like a pie, and there are no visible numerals. The space where a twelve should be shows a lightning bolt. The inside cover of the watch displays a stylized sun, much like the ones worn by rebels. Neil snaps it closed. “It’s beautiful,” he says dutifully.

“But deadly,” Rhemann says.

Neil nods politely but has had enough of this cryptic conversation. He excuses himself not long afterwards and leaves the event as early as Katelyn lets him go.

* * *

Neil has only been asleep for a couple hours when he is wrenched awake by the door to his room slamming open. He didn’t arrive back to the Tower until the very early hours of the morning and is greatly annoyed at the interruption. He does not become less annoyed when he finds Kevin glowering at him from the doorway.

“You will come with me,” Kevin says imperiously, before spinning on his heel and dramatically flouncing off.

Neil considers simply rolling over and going back to sleep but he assumes that Kevin will just keep coming back until he gets what he wants.

Yawning widely, Neil rolls to his feet and shuffles out of his room.

“Neil!” Matt calls sleepily. “Good to see you, man.”

“Coffee?” Neil asks hopefully. Matt pours him a mug. Neil thanks him and takes it before following Kevin who is waiting impatiently in the suite’s entrance.

Kevin leads him up to the roof, into one of the only unmonitored locations in the Tower.

“Just what do you think you are doing?” Kevin spits. “You will bring his wrath down on all of us!”

“I’m just continuing what you started,” says Neil. “You defied him first. You’re the one that showed everyone that he _could_ be defied.”

“I didn’t intend to do that,” admits Kevin.

“Kevin,” says Neil with exaggerated patience. “You volunteered for the Games after he said you were exempt. You spoke about coming together in times of trouble. What _did_ you intend?”

Kevin shrugs helplessly. “I had trained my whole life in order to compete in the Games and then he said I couldn't. He had _no right_ to take that away from me.”

“Kevin,” says Neil again, this time fighting to keep control of his temper. “The man raised you after your mother’s death. Him barring you from competing in a death contest was not a punishment.”

“He did not raise me, he _owned_ me,” says Kevin harshly. “Kayleigh Day’s son, his little pet, to be trotted out at events and shown off. You don’t know anything about him and his punishments. He is not a kind man.”

“And all this time I’ve thought he was,” says Neil sarcastically. He huffs a little laugh. “I can’t believe that the general populace chose _you_ as the rallying point of their rebellion.”

“I don’t want to be,” Kevin insists. “I will not help you in this. Stop dragging me into it.”

“I think it’s too late,” says Neil. “The people have spoken and apparently your media personality makes you an attractive figurehead. If you really don’t want people to follow your image you should try being yourself in public.”

Kevin ignores the insult, too busy fighting off panic. “He’s going to kill me,” he says on a whimper. “He will take everything from me.”

“What do you have to lose?” Neil asks.

“Fuck you.”

“No, really, Kevin, what? What is so great about your life that you’re afraid to lose it? You spend all your time living in fear, alternating between drinking as much as you can and weapons training. Don’t you want more? Wouldn’t you rather be free?”

“I’m not like you,” Kevin says sharply. “I can’t just ignore the danger he represents.”

“It’s not like I want to die,” Neil argues. “But I don’t really have much choice. I may as well make as much trouble as possible on my way out.”

“You could run,” Kevin says desperately.

“Not anymore,” says Neil.

“Then stop antagonizing him and do as he says!”

“Look, you can be the good little boy and toe the party line, Kevin, but I’m not going to. You know me: following orders has never been my forte.”

Kevin sighs heavily, but seems to understand that continuing to argue with Neil is futile. “One more thing. What are you planning on saying on Kathy Ferdinand’s show today?” he asks with trepidation.

“I was thinking of mentioning the president’s obvious daddy issues and the fact that he probably has a small penis,” Neil says dryly. The sound Kevin makes is not human and Neil thinks he may have swallowed his tongue. “Relax, Kevin,” he says rolling his eyes. “I’ll be well behaved. Well, I will be as long as I don’t lose my temper and start feeling contrary.”

“Somehow I am not filled with confidence,” Kevin says sourly. He goes back inside, slamming the door behind him to make sure that Neil is very aware that he is Most Displeased.

* * *

“There was a bet about whether you’d make it through your Victory tour alive,” Andrew says that evening when Neil makes it up to the roof. It is very late. After Kathy’s show the other Victors had wanted to celebrate Neil’s return. He’s pretty sure that some of them are still partying; however, they are quite intoxicated so he highly doubts that they will notice his absence.

“Did you lose money?” Neil asks. “Aren’t there better things than me to bet on?”

“What else is there to do around here? You’re the subject of at least five different bets.”

“What do I have to do to make them lose interest in me?”

“Be less mysterious,” says Andrew. “The pot for the one about your sexuality is getting ridiculous. Both members of your prep team have been tasked with seducing you so that they can find out which way you swing.”

Neil sputters a little. He’s already had to answer questions about his love life today; Kathy had been incredibly interested in whether or not he had a girlfriend or a potential girlfriend. He had not answered her questions gracefully. “Well that explains the increasingly desperate come ons,” he muses. “What are you betting on?”

“Neither,” says Andrew. “Nicky is convinced that the fact that you haven’t once looked at Allison’s breasts means that you swing his way, but he is conveniently leaving out the fact that you don’t look at men either. Aaron’s the same way, so I’m pretty sure that you don’t swing at all. Yes or no?”

“Are we playing our game?” Neil asks. At Andrew’s nod, he answers, “You’re right. I’ve never been interested in anyone. My mother wouldn’t let me look at anyone without punishment and it was never worth it.”

Andrew considers this. “Your turn,” is what he ends up saying.

“What about you, then? Which way do you swing?”

Andrew is quiet for a few minutes, finishing his cigarette and starting a new one. He takes a swig of whiskey. “I’m gay,” he finally admits.

“Huh,” says Neil, a little surprised but also not. “That must have been difficult to come to terms with,” he says carefully.

“We are not having a heart-to-heart about young Andrew and his struggles with his sexuality,” says Andrew. Then, more quietly, “Bee helped.” It takes a couple seconds for Neil to recognize Andrew’s nickname for Betsy Dobson. Neil hasn’t had much interaction with her, but she was Andrew’s mentor during his Games and they’ve remained close. Neil suspects that she’s become Andrew’s mother figure.

“That’s… good,” says Neil awkwardly.

“Are you attempting empathy?” asks Andrew.

“I’ve never tried it before, but I thought I could for you.”

Andrew ignores this, before blatantly changing the subject. “Kevin was convinced you were dead when the cameras cut out in District 10. Abby had to talk him down from a panic attack.”

“Well a panic attack is certainly out of character for Kevin,” says Neil wryly. “I would have thought he’d be relieved. I’m pretty sure he hates me.”

“He spends an awful lot of time talking about you if that’s the case,” says Andrew. “I would suspect him of being in love with you if he wasn’t so gone on Thea.”

“Kevin and Thea?” Neil asks, surprised. Theodora Muldani is a past Victor from District 1. “How did they manage to keep that out of the media? Capitol residents go crazy for Victor love stories. Doubly so when the Victors are in love with each other. I would know.”

“Ah, yes, your parents,” says Andrew. “An inspiring love story.”

“I don’t even know if they ever loved each other,” says Neil. “They certainly hated each other by the end.”

“We’re all aware that you’re a walking tragedy.”

“You’re a pretty sad sob story yourself,” counters Neil. “I met Cass Spear.”

Andrew freezes, his hand stops dead while bringing his cigarette to his mouth.

“In District 3 she was one of the guests at the luncheon I had with the mayor,” Neil explains. “She asked after you. Did you know that she and Richard are living in your house in the Victors’ Village?”

“They’re still legally my parents,” says Andrew roughly. “What did you say to her?”

“Not much,” Neil assures him. “I didn’t think you’d want me to say anything, so I told her I didn’t know you. Then she tried to tell me a story about Drake so I told her that he sounded like a giant loser and a drain on society and that she should be relieved that he was dead. For some reason she wasn’t interested in talking with me after that.”

Andrew resumes smoking, quickly finishing his cigarette and starting another one. He snuffs that one out after only a couple drags, but then lights a third.

“I don’t need your protection,” he finally says.

“That wasn’t protection,” Neil argues. “I was simply living up to my reputation as a mouthy asshole.”

“I hate you,” Andrew says simply.

“Take a number,” says Neil. “I’m pretty sure that the president of the country hates me the most. Lola Malcolm told me he has a special plan to deal with me and he spent all last night smirking at me, it was unnerving.”

“Do you know anyone who doesn’t want to kill you?”

“Well, you said Roland and Marissa are trying to seduce me, so…”

“Those two things are not mutually exclusive,” claims Andrew.

“That would explain Seth and Allison’s relationship.”

Andrew gives him an unimpressed look. “If you’re going to discuss their sex life then you can go away.”

Neil huffs a laugh and climbs to his feet. He is not about to discuss Seth and Allison’s sex life, ever, but he is exhausted. He hasn’t slept properly for weeks and Kevin dragging him out of his bed to yell at him this morning didn’t help. “Good night, Andrew,” he says, heading inside for the comfort of his bed.

* * *

It isn’t until several months later that Neil finds out Riko Moriyama’s plan.

All the Tower residents have gathered in the common room to watch the mandatory announcement of this year’s 75th annual Hunger Games. Each twenty five year anniversary of the start of the Hunger Games is called a quarter Quell, and the Games have a twist. Something to increase the excitement for Capitol residents and to punish the districts.

President Moriyama looks satisfied when he appears on the screen, instantly causing the hairs on the back of Neil’s neck to stand up.

“This year is the third Quell,” he begins. “As such, there are special rules in place to mark the third twenty five year interval since the defeat of the rebellious districts by the Capitol.” He picks up a cue card from in front of him and reads it. “To remind the districts that the Capitol can be merciful, only twelve Tributes will be chosen for these Games, one boy or girl from each district.” He pauses to let this sink in. A shiver runs up Neil’s spine. Twists for the Quells are never kind. There must be more. “And,” continues the president, “as a reminder to the districts that even the strongest among them are not safe from the wrath of the Capitol, the Tributes will be chosen from among past Victors.”

There is a confused silence before realization sinks in and angry shouting explodes in the common room. Neil can’t hear what anyone is saying past the buzzing in his ears as he realizes what this means for him. Every district has at least two Victors, most have more. Except District 10, where he’s the only living Victor. He is guaranteed to be his district’s Tribute. This is how Riko plans to get rid of him.

Neil feels distant as he numbly watches everybody react to the news. Maybe he’s already dying, his stupid soul fading from his short body in preparation for a brutal end.

He meets Andrew’s watchful eyes from across the room. Andrew gives him a mocking two-fingered salute and then laughs at whatever he sees in Neil’s expression. Resignation, maybe.

Neil’s fate has been sealed. He escaped death the last time he entered a Hunger Games arena. He does not believe that he will survive a second time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhemann is quoting The Hobbit.
> 
> Next time is the 75th annual Hunger Games. Who will compete? Who will live? Who will die? Tune in next week and make sure to leave a comment on your way out.


	2. they used to shout my name, now they whisper it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented on the first chapter! It definitely got more attention than I was expecting and I'm so happy about it!
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: violence and murder (yay Hunger Games), references to past abuse, character death (see end tags for spoilery warnings), and triggering things said by past abusers with vague references to both physical and sexual abuse. As always, don't hesitate to contact me ([@gluupor](http://gluupor.tumblr.com)) if you have any questions or concerns.

Neil stands on the stage in District 10, repressing his anger and waiting to be chosen as Tribute. Katelyn waits beside him, her bubbly personality subdued. President Moriyama is on the screens that surround the courtyard, giving a speech that Neil is resolutely ignoring in an effort to control his temper. It’s the same, tired rhetoric about how the districts cemented their own fate and how they must submit to the Capitol.

Eventually even the president tires of hearing his own voice and it is time for the Reaping. The footage switches to District 1 where all five of the living Victors are lined up on the stage. Neil recognizes Thea Muldani, her dark hair in intricate braids, as well as Jackson Planck and Patrick DiMaccio, friends of his father.

The district’s escort selects a single strip of paper from the glass lottery wheel and clears his throat. “The Tribute from District 1 is… Theodora Muldani!”

Thea steps forward, her face stony. The escort makes a valiant effort to get her to wave to the crowd, but her expression is forbidding. She glares into the camera until it switches to show District 2.

Kevin is standing among a large group of Victors, Lola and Romero Malcolm among them. Neil suspects that he is on the verge of panicking, but he wears his casual arrogance like armour. His expression flickers a little as he is selected as the district’s representative, but he dons a determined expression and steps forward. Neil wonders if Riko has rigged all of the selections. Already Kevin and Neil will be competing in the games. Is his plan simply for all his enemies to eliminate each other?

District 3 comes up on the televisions. Andrew is utterly unable to keep an appropriate sombre expression; he’s probably still laughing about Kevin being chosen as Tribute. Neil steels himself to hear Andrew’s name called, but it isn’t.

“The Tribute from District 3 is… Betsy Dobson!” Erik Klose announces.

The news manages to affect Andrew, erasing his drugged grin. He frowns, briefly, before laughing.

“Well isn’t that a pickle,” he says through his chuckles. “To die or not to die?” He drags his thumb across his chemically-induced smile. “This presents a challenge. …I volunteer as Tribute.” Neil’s heart sinks. He knows that Andrew would never let Betsy compete when he could prevent her from doing so, but Neil doesn’t want Andrew anywhere near the arena, especially with the added complication of his medication.

He lets his mind wander through the Reapings in Districts 4 through 9 - making note of whether Matt or Renee are chosen as Tribute in their districts (he is glad that they are not) - and forcefully yanks himself back to the present when the red light on the camera pointed at him illuminates. Katelyn puts on a mostly convincing smile and fishes out the single piece of paper from the selection jar.

She clears her throat. “Nathaniel Wesninski,” she reads, then smiles sadly at him. “Neil,” she corrects.

Neil looks directly into the camera and gives a lazy salute. The gesture is echoed back to him from the spectators in the square. The Peacekeepers shift nervously.

The broadcast switches quickly to District 11 where Dan and Wymack are waiting. Dan’s name is chosen and Wymack volunteers to take her place. She hugs him fiercely, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. There was no good outcome for her. Either she was going back into the arena or the man who is like a father to her was. She looks devastated.

District 12 also only has two Victors to choose from: Robin and Seth. Seth is chosen as Tribute, and Neil lets out a sigh of relief. Robin is still only seventeen, the only Victor other than him who is still a teenager. He is glad that she gets to avoid returning to the Hunger Games.

With that, the Reaping is over; the twelve competitors have been chosen. Neil and Katelyn are accompanied back to the train by Peacekeepers. The other Victors will have events to attend in their own districts this evening, but Neil has been forbidden from spending any extra time in District 10 because of the growing unrest.

Allison, along with Roland and Marissa, greet him when he returns to the train. Allison appears haughty and unaffected, but his prep team keeps giving him heartbroken looks.

“Stop looking at me as if I’m on my deathbed,” he snaps, his anger boiling over. Marissa bursts into tears. Neil is unable to gracefully handle other people’s emotions even at the best of times and these are not the best of times so he gets up to leave.

“Neil…” says Katelyn helplessly.

“Leave it,” he says sharply. “I’m fine.”

He retreats to his sleeping quarters and is surprised to find a man dressed in a bellhop uniform waiting for him. He is instantly on guard.

“What are you doing here?” he asks suspiciously.

The man has some sort of electronic device in his hand. He presses a button and it emits a high pitched whine.

“My name is Hernandez. We have ninety seconds to talk,” says the man. “Abram.”

Neil stills. Abram is the name his mother always called him. It is not listed as his legal name and there are only two other living people who know its significance to Neil. “Where did you hear that name?” he asks in a rough voice.

“Your uncle has a message for you.”

“My uncle,” says Neil hotly, “can go suck a dick. Or better yet, he can choke on a whole bag of them.”

Hernandez chuckles. “He said you’d say something like that. He wants you to know that a plan to extract you to Headquarters is in the works. You will be taken from the arena on midnight of the second night of the Games. All you have to do is remove your tracker and bring down the force field.”

“Oh, is that all?” says Neil sarcastically. “Sounds easy. How am I supposed to do that?”

“I don’t know, exactly. Your uncle just said to tell you that everything you need will be provided,” says Hernandez.

Neil rolls his eyes. “Cryptic asshole. Anything else for his highness?”

“He says that your allies will be rescued as well, and to make sure that you bring Kevin Day with you.”

Neil scoffs. “Great.” He pauses in thought for a couple seconds. “What about my allies who aren’t in the arena? Or my allies’ friends and family. The Capitol will use them against us if we escape.”

“Talk to your stylist,” says Hernandez, with his eyes on his watch. Neil raises his eyebrows in surprise. Apparently Allison is more deeply involved in the rebellion than he had suspected.

The device in Hernandez’s hands gives a little beep and he tucks it back into his pocket. “Sorry for disturbing you, sir, I’ll just be on my way.”

“Make sure to pass along my displeasure to your boss,” says Neil. “Remember: a whole bag.”

Neil sits down heavily and starts to process this new information. The rebellion must be gaining traction if they are ready to make such an aggressive move and expose themselves like this. Neil has known for a while that his only chance at survival involves the rebellion deposing the president and that will be true for everyone he takes with him as well. If the rebels lose, they will not be forgiven. In that case, the best they can hope for is a swift death. Neil knows that he should let the others make their own choice about whether they want to join the rebellion or not, but he is already hopelessly, irrevocably involved and he can’t in good conscience leave them behind to be used as pawns by the administration. Therefore, the only option is for the rebellion to succeed and for that he’s going to need Kevin’s cooperation. He groans a little to himself, wondering how he can possibly convince Kevin that his best option is to embrace his role as the figurehead of the revolution.

He seeks out Allison once she’s alone in the dining car that evening.

“Sorry for snapping earlier,” he says, not sounding contrite at all.

“No you’re not,” she says. “You had just cause. Besides, I’m dating Seth. I can recognize misplaced anger when I see it.”

He takes a seat. “I’m tired,” he tells her, which is probably the truest thing he’s ever said to her. “After the Hunger Games I think I’ll need to get away for a vacation. I hear that you are the one to talk to about that?”

She gives him a shrewd look. “I’ve been helping Renee plan a trip,” she says slowly.

“Who are you taking with you?” he asks.

“Oh, all of us who live in the Tower. Dan, Matt, Robin, Betsy, Abby, Nicky, Aaron. And whoever survives the arena, of course.”

“Of course,” he echoes blankly. “Hopefully that will be me.”

“I’m rooting for you,” she tells him. “Can you do me a favour and ask Andrew’s lot to coordinate with Renee?”

“Sure,” he says and then slumps down in his seat.

“How are you really doing, Neil?” Allison asks, concern bleeding through her aloofness.

“I’m fine,” Neil lies. She clearly doesn’t believe him but lets him get away with it. He doesn’t even know if he lied for her benefit or for his own. “Everything’s fine.”

* * *

He decides to put aside working out how to dismantle the arena’s force field and focus on getting Kevin to agree to be an active member of the resistance. He figures that it’s the more impossible task, after all.

The Tributes and their support staff have all gathered in the Training Centre to prepare for the Games and the events leading up to them. The stylists and escorts socialize mainly with each other, but the mentors and Tributes have separated into three groups. Kevin spends his time with the other career Tributes, Thea Muldani from District 1 and Jean Moreau from District 4 who are apparently his close, personal friends. Neil avoids this group like the plague since Romero Malcolm is acting as Kevin’s mentor and Jackson Planck is Thea’s. Instead, he gravitates to Wymack and Dan and Matt (since Wymack can’t act as his mentor Matt has volunteered to do so). The four of them also stick with Seth and Robin, and Andrew and Betsy. The Tributes from the remaining five districts have also clustered together, most likely in reaction to not being welcome in either of the other groups.

It is therefore quite difficult to speak with Kevin without an entourage surrounding him. It takes Neil a couple days to convey the message that he needs to speak with him alone. During dinner Neil manages to corner him in the stairwell.

Shortly after he’d come to live in the Tower Wymack had gifted him with a watch. Neil had been bemused until he’d realized that the watch came with several special features, one of them being the ability to locate dead surveillance spots. He eyes his watch until he sees the little symbol that means that no one can hear them.

“What do you want?” asks Kevin impatiently.

“I’ve learned that the rebellion is planning on retrieving us from the arena and taking us to their headquarters,” Neil replies, getting straight to the point.

Kevin recoils, almost falling off the stair he is on, his face white. “ _What_?” he hisses, looking around frantically. “Tell them no!”

“I can’t,” says Neil. “They’re set on involving you. What do I need to give you in order for you to commit to being their figurehead?”

Kevin’s eyes are wide and frightened. “There’s nothing than can make me do that,” he says. “I already told you.”

“Come on, Kevin,” says Neil. “There’s really nothing you want?”

Kevin pauses, looking thoughtful. “I will help you if you guarantee protection.”

“Protection from what?”

“From whatever President Moriyama tries to do to me,” Kevin answers.

“How can I do that?” asks Neil. Kevin is deluded if he thinks that Neil can protect him.

“Do you know why I moved into the Tower?” says Kevin. “It’s because Andrew is here. If you get him to agree to protect me from President Moriyama then I will do as you ask.”

“Andrew?” asks Neil incredulously. “Are we talking about the same Andrew? The five foot blond who is so drugged up that he would find your death funny?”

“Andrew is one of the most protective people I have ever met. If he promises protection to someone nothing could stop him from fulfilling that promise. He offered it to me when I first moved in.”

“Then why do you need me to get him to agree?” asks Neil, bewildered.

“Because he wasn’t willing to do it for free. I tried to make a deal with him; I offered everything I could think of, but we couldn’t come to an agreement. As far as I can tell he wants nothing.”

Kevin looks smug and Neil realizes that he thinks that there is no way for Neil to get Andrew to agree. As far as Kevin, or anyone else, knows Neil and Andrew’s interactions have been limited to insults and threats.

“Alright,” says Neil. “It’s a deal. I’ll get Andrew to protect you from the president and you’ll work with the rebellion.”

Kevin scoffs and leaves, secure in his belief that he will never have to hold up his end of the bargain.

Later that night, up on the roof, Neil is contemplating how to broach the subject with Andrew. Andrew has always responded best to direct questions and doesn’t appreciate subtlety so Neil figures he’ll just ask.

“What do I have to give you in exchange for your promise to protect Kevin from Riko Moriyama?”

Andrew cocks his head thoughtfully. “You know, in all his time trying to bargain with me, Kevin never thought to just outright ask what I would take in exchange.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“I’ll trade you,” says Andrew. “I’ll tell you what I’ll take and you tell me why you want me to.”

Neil nods. “I have no connection to the rebels, but my uncle does.”

“Your mother’s brother,” clarifies Andrew.

“Yes. He came to me before last year’s Reaping and blackmailed me into volunteering. Kevin had already sparked rebellion and he needed someone to fan the flames.”

“By being an instigating asshole,” Andrew guesses. “But you didn’t start mouthing off until after you’d won,” he points out.

“Well, you may not have noticed, but I’m fairly contrary,” says Neil with dry humour. “I was annoyed at my uncle for backing me into a corner and I had no intention of doing what he wanted. I was going to be stiff and boring and dead and of no help to the rebellion at all.”

“But you changed your mind.”

“Not really. Janie’s death set off my temper which led to me winning, but it was the discovery of my past with my mother that let the people of the districts know that defiance is possible since my mother and I had been defying the president for years, simply by living where we weren’t supposed to. After I won, he paid me a personal visit to express his displeasure. At that point I realized that my only option was to incite rebellion in order to topple his dictatorship; otherwise I would be under his control forever.”

“And you think Kevin will help you?”

“He has agreed to help me in exchange for your protection. So, tell me, what do you want?”

“Make no mistake, I want nothing,” Andrew tells him, pointing his cigarette at Neil. He is quiet for a long time while Neil waits patiently. “I would promise to protect Kevin if I were allowed to stop taking my drugs.”

Neil considers. “Obviously I have no control over that. But if we depose the current government, who is going to insist that you take them?”

Andrew is quiet again, silently smoking. “There’s no way this deal makes sense. We are about to compete in the Hunger Games. There can only be one winner; either I protect him and die, never getting what I was promised, or I don’t and have failed at my end of the bargain.”

“Oh!” says Neil surprised. “I forgot to tell you. We’re making an early exit from the arena and travelling to wherever the rebellion is based.”

“Are we,” says Andrew flatly. “I will not leave Aaron and Nicky and Robin and Bee here unprotected.”

“No, I know,” Neil assures him. “I’ve already arranged for them to come too. Just tell them to stick close to Renee once the Games start.”

Andrew is thoughtfully silent for several minutes. “I will not be able to deal with Kevin alone. He will not be able to handle the expectations of the rebellion without crumbling. He watches you for cues; you will need to prop him up and protect him when I can’t.”

“Alright,” says Neil easily. “We’ll work together to keep Kevin out of an alcohol and fear and panic spiral while you protect him from the president.”

“Fine. We have a deal,” says Andrew, before adding, “You’ll have to stay alive in order to keep up your end of the bargain.”

“So will you,” points out Neil. “I’ll make you another deal: I’ll do my best to stay alive if you do as well.”

Andrew nods and takes a swallow of whiskey.

“Hey,” says Neil, broaching another subject which has been worrying him. “What’s your plan for your withdrawal during the Games?”

“I guess we’ll wait and see,” says Andrew. “Either I get the medication I need as sponsor gifts or from the Cornucopia, or I go into withdrawal and become an easy target.”

“Why would you think it’ll be in the Cornucopia?” asks Neil.

“I ran into the head gamemaker the other day. He was a little enigmatic, but he said something about my needs being provided for.”

Something about the wording pings in Neil’s brain. “Rhemann?” he asks. “What did he say, exactly?”

“He said: ‘everything you need will be provided’.” says Andrew, side eyeing him.

Those were the words that Neil’s uncle had had Hernandez tell him when he asked how to disable the force field. “Would you be able to dismantle the arena’s force field?” he asks.

Andrew looks a little taken aback at the abrupt conversation switch, but considers Neil’s question. “It can be overloaded,” he says. “But we’d need a conducting wire and an arrow or a spear, as well as a surge of electricity.”

Neil thinks of Rhemann and his pocket watch and cryptic remarks. “Like a lightning bolt?”

“That would work, but we would need to know the exact time and location that it would hit.”

“Midnight on the second day of the Games,” says Neil. “I’m guessing the location will become clearer once we’re inside the arena.”

“So we’ll have to survive until the second day of the Games.”

“It shouldn’t be that hard,” says Neil. “Kevin is already allied with Thea and Jean, and Wymack and probably Seth will join with us. That only leaves five hostile Tributes. I like our chances.”

Andrew squints at him. “Are you being optimistic?”

Neil shakes his head, but he can’t help his little grin. For the first time since his uncle spoke with him before his Reaping he can almost glimpse a future. He doesn’t want to get ahead of himself, but he is less certain than ever about his imminent demise. He tries to push away his hope. Hope is a dangerous, disquieting thing, but he thinks, perhaps, that he likes it.

* * *

The next few weeks pass by in a blur. Most days are spent in the Training Centre, rotating between different weapon and skill training stations. Neil tells Wymack, Dan, and Matt about his desire to ally with Andrew and Kevin. Wymack gives him a penetrating look but says he’ll take care of organizing the alliance and forbids Neil from talking to anyone on the pretext that Neil will just alienate them with his personality. Andrew is the one to tell Kevin that he’s willing to protect him from the president and Kevin spends several days staring at Neil with consternation at every opportunity. It’s a little disconcerting but at least being stared at by Kevin is familiar by now.

The Tributes are required to take place in a presentation parade. Dressed in clothing to represent their district’s industry, they are wheeled before the adoring crowds of the Capitol. Andrew suggests to Allison that she dress Neil as a lamb, cackling and avoiding her hands as she swats him away.

“Maybe a fox then,” he says.

“Foxes aren’t livestock,” Neil points out, unamused.

Allison ends up dressing him in tight leather (“Dead cows are the best cows,” she says to Roland and Marissa as they prep him). She applies heavy makeup, dark around his eyes to make them even more striking and somehow contouring his cheekbones so that they appear even sharper than usual.

“You’re welcome,” Allison tells Andrew, to Neil’s confusion, as they gather in the preparation area before the processional. Andrew sends a pointed look to Neil’s pants and then raises an eyebrow at her. She just grins unrepentantly.

“It’s a gift for everybody,” she says, then is distracted by Seth’s clothing. She walks over to talk with the stylist responsible, leaving Neil and Andrew alone.

Andrew is dressed in his customary black – Nicky, who works as his stylist, is obviously smart enough not to try to force him into anything brightly coloured - but his clothes are delicately embroidered with silvery-blue thread in an intricate pattern made to look like the inside of a computer chip. His shirt is also much tighter than he usually wears, showing the muscles in his chest and arms to his advantage.

Neil’s mind stutters a little. “You look… uh, good,” he manages to say.

Andrew rolls his eyes. “You look terrified.”

“I don’t like being stared at,” Neil admits.

“You should be used to it by now, living with Kevin.”

“Different kind of staring,” Neil says.

Andrew gives him a slow, appreciative once over. “Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asks.

Neil’s face heats and he considers. He doesn’t mind Andrew’s attention; in fact, he likes it. “It’s different when it’s you,” he says, a little surprised himself.

Andrew just shakes his head and laughs, his regular manic laughter tinged with disbelief. “I hate you,” he says.

“That’s fine,” replies Neil. “It’s probably best if you do.”

“Are you being fatalistic? Don’t forget our deal.”

“I’d never break a promise to you on purpose,” vows Neil.

“You can’t be real.”

“We’ve already established that I’m not.”

“Stop talking,” says Andrew, reaching out a hand to cover Neil’s mouth. Before he can say anything else, a shout rings out through the room.

“Andrew!” calls Erik Klose, the escort for District 3. “Andrew, where are you? It’s time to go!”

Andrew lowers his hand and gives Neil an intense look before he turns abruptly and saunters over to answer Erik’s summons. Katelyn shows up then to fuss at Neil and usher him into place.

A few days after the parade, the Tributes are assessed one by one in front of the gamemakers. Neil runs through demonstrations with several different types of weapons but does nothing remarkable. He is surprised when he gets a high score. Scores are used to set betting odds, with higher scores indicating a higher chance of winning. They are also used by the other Tributes to scope out their competition. He has a high enough score that he will be a target for the other Tributes, but it is still not as high as Kevin’s perfect score. He wonders if the president had a hand in this.

The last event that he has to endure before the Games start is another interview on Kathy Ferdinand’s show. The Tributes have short three minute interviews so the adoring public can get to know them before the Games begin. It will be a little different this time; Victors are celebrities, the Capitol residents already know them and love them. This time, the audience is here to say goodbye to some of their favourites.

No one has offered Neil any advice about what to say in this interview. Wymack had simply given him a heavy look and said, “Be smart.” Then he’d sighed a little and amended, “Be as smart as your tiny little brain lets you be.”

As the interviews progress, Neil realizes that the other Victors are just as angry about being forced back into the Games as he is. And on top of that, they are betrayed. Victors are promised lives of luxury and now President Moriyama has taken that away from them.

Thea starts off, her face sombre as she talks about how upset all the Capitol residents must be to be losing their Victors. She reveals that she and Kevin are in a relationship and states that they had wished to share all their life events - engagement, marriage, children - with with the adoring public but that opportunity is now lost to them. Kevin is in full media mode, talking about the affection between the Capitol and his mother and how he has been accepted and loved as well. How he had hoped that his children would be just as loved. He carefully questions the legality of the Quell. Andrew is not a particularly sympathetic figure, but he talks a little about Nicky and Aaron and how he had managed to find his family after a lifetime away from them. Jean Moreau has a media smile to rival Kevin’s. He’s always been marketed as a heartthrob and he smiles his heart-stopping smile and breaks some hearts when he says that he had hoped to meet the love of his life in the Capitol and now he will never have a chance. The next five Tributes continue with the theme. They talk about how many tears they have shed because they must leave their friends who adore them, they question how this could be allowed to happen, they wonder why no one from the government is stepping in to prevent this terrible pain.

By the time it is Neil’s turn, the crowd is nearly inconsolable and Kathy’s smile is a little tight under the strain.

His three minute interview is almost up when she asks if there is anything he wants to say.

“Just this,” he says. “The President professes to be all powerful; therefore, he has the power to change the rules of this Quell. Why is he not doing so when it obviously causes everyone such pain and sadness? Why is he taking away the Victors that you know and love?”

Wymack is next and he speaks a little about how this is the second Quell that he has participated in and how they are designed to punish the districts for their past insubordination. But this one is punishing the Capitol residents, he points out. Surely the government can see that.

Seth is less diplomatic. “My life is not worth less than yours just because I was born in District 12,” he says bluntly. “I’ve already risked my life to compete in these Games for your amusement, why should I have to do it again?” He crosses his arms angrily and refuses to say any more.

Kathy wraps up her show after that, valiantly trying to drum up excitement for the upcoming Games despite the despair that is filling her studio.

And just like that, it’s over. They retreat back to their separate floors with their entourages. Katelyn attempts a couple times to get a conversation started while Allison and Matt do their best to distract him, but Neil retires to his room early. He tries, and mostly fails, to sleep, his mind too busy whirring through everything that can go wrong the next day when the 75th annual Hunger Games begin.

* * *

The first thought that goes through Neil’s mind once his elevator raises him in the arena is: _fuck_. He is standing on his starting plate and is completely surrounded by water. The Cornucopia sits in the middle of a perfectly circular small island that is in the middle of a perfectly circular lake with the twelve starting plates in the water, placed in a circle equidistant from the island, like the numbers on a clock. The lake is surrounded by a white sandy beach that is ringed with thick jungle.

Neil can swim but it is an uncommon skill. His mother had been convinced that one day they would have to escape their pursuers through a lake or a river and so had forced him to learn. The only district where swimming is common is District 4 where the industry is fishing. Neil doesn’t know if any of the other Tributes would have ever learned to swim.

He supposes he shouldn’t be too surprised - Allison had dressed him in some sort of wetsuit with quick-dry fabric, after all.

An announcement is heard from a loudspeaker. “Ladies and Gentlemen, let the 75th annual Hunger Games begin!”

A countdown appears, numbers counting down from ten projected into the sky. Neil readies himself to dive off his platform, careful not to jump before the countdown ends. Explosives are placed underneath the starting plates to discourage the Tributes from moving too soon. Once the countdown finishes, the starting cannon sounds and he dives into the water - sputtering a little when he finds that the water is salty - taking sure, even strokes towards the Cornucopia.

When he reaches the island he risks a look around before arming himself, but he is the only one to reach land so far. Several of the Tributes haven’t left their platforms yet but some are making slow progress towards the Cornucopia with inexpert swimming strokes.

He turns his focus to the Cornucopia. Usually it is filled with weapons, supplies, and food but he notices that there are only a couple supplies and no food offered this year. He grabs several water skins, and a bow and quiver of arrows, and then starts picking up as many knives as possible. He spies an orange prescription bottle and shoves it into the pouch he is wearing at his waist. He keeps half his attention on his surroundings so that no one can sneak up on him; suddenly he sees the movement out of the corner of his eye and spins, brandishing a knife.

Jean Moreau stops and holds out his hands. A sputtering Kevin is beside him.

“He swallowed a lot of water,” Jean explains. “He doesn’t swim very well, but he was on the plate next to mine so I towed him here.”

Neil sweeps his gaze back out over the water. The slow swimmers are getting closer.

“There are only weapons,” Neil tells Jean and Kevin. “Let’s pick up what we need and get out of here.” He doesn’t want to participate in the usual bloodbath that occurs at the start of every Games.

He spots a spear on the ground and tosses it to Kevin, then quickly assesses the remaining offerings, looking for anything useful. He’s debating whether he needs more than the fourteen knives he’s already carrying when he hears Kevin shout.

“What are you doing?” Kevin is saying, sounding enraged and flabbergasted.

Seth has made his way to the Cornucopia and has picked up a machete. He is swinging it at Kevin, having already managed to cut a slice into his left arm.

“We’re allies!” Kevin yells angrily, backing up, but that doesn’t seem to affect Seth.

Neil doesn’t wait for him to make another move; he’s already throwing a knife. His aim with knives is very good - it was the first thing he ever learned from his father, back when he was the target - and Seth goes down when it strikes him in the throat.

Kevin turns and shouts at Neil, “He’s our ally!”

“Fucking Christ, Kevin, obviously not!” snaps Neil.

Jean runs back over to them, brandishing a trident that he’s found, attracted by the noise that Kevin is making. “Districts 5 through 9 have almost made it here,” he tells them. “Neither Thea nor Wymack are close; Andrew is still on his platform.”

“Fuck,” says Neil, deciding that he has a new favourite word. “We can’t stay here. Kevin is apparently just letting people take swipes at him,” he adds spitefully.

“Fuck you,” says Kevin, heatedly.

Neil ignores him and turns to Jean. “I’ll take Kevin and get Andrew; can you handle Wymack and Thea?” Jean looks torn, obviously not wanting to leave Kevin, but nods. “We’ll meet tomorrow morning on the beach,” Neil says, then turns, picks up the machete that Seth had been wielding, and forcefully shoves Kevin back towards the water. Thankfully, they are on the opposite side of the island from their incoming competitors. Kevin isn’t really as bad a swimmer as Jean had claimed, but he only knows how to doggy paddle. Neil pushes him a little to get them to go faster, but he can at least float and keep his head above the water. Neil suspects that that is not the case with Andrew, who still hasn’t left his starting plate. Andrew has apparently decided that the best response to being surrounded by seawater is to try to glare it into submission.

“Come on,” Neil pants as he and Kevin approach Andrew’s location.

Andrew gives a weak laugh. “I don’t think so, no,” he says.

“Fucking hell, get in the goddamn water,” Kevin spits, choking a little when he inhales water.

“I won’t let you sink,” Neil promises. “You just have to float on your back and I’ll drag you to shore, okay?”

Andrew looks at the water distrustfully. “What will you give me if I do?”

“Not leaving you to die?” suggests Neil sarcastically. “I have a nice machete; I’ll give it to you once we reach the beach.”

“Give it to me now,” Andrew says, so Neil passes him the machete. Andrew sits down on his platform and then very carefully lowers himself into the water, his grip on the starting plate white-knuckled and tense.

Neil is getting tired treading water but he knows better than to rush Andrew.

“I’m going to touch you now, yes or no?” he asks.

Andrew sends him an unimpressed look but nods; Neil maneuvers him until he’s floating on his back so Neil can more easily swim the two of them to shore. He takes steady, powerful strokes and keeps his eyes on Kevin who is determinedly paddling after them. It doesn’t take them too long to reach the beach, but Neil is almost panting from exertion.

Andrew gets out of the water as quickly as possible and shakes himself off. Neil has to hide a smile; he looks almost exactly like a stray cat that he’d once let into the barn during a rainstorm. Neil tosses Andrew the bottle of medication and, while he’s checking out the contents, takes stock of his weapons. He divides up the knives and passes half to Andrew, who is holding up a small white pill to examine it.

“Is it the right stuff?” Neil asks.

“Looks like my regular pills,” says Andrew. “I won’t know for certain until I take one. We should be somewhere else by then.” Andrew has detailed the way his withdrawal progresses. First, when he skips his dose, his energy ebbs. He’s able to focus more as exhaustion sets in. Then, in the second stage of withdrawal, he’s nauseated. By the third stage, he’s shaking and weak and willing to murder anyone between him and his pills. He’s told Neil that his plan while in the arena is to ride his withdrawal as long as possible, giving himself the most amount of time semi-sober. He’ll take his pill just as he draws close to the second stage of his withdrawal, which will cause his body to crash; he’s trusting Neil to be on guard at those times.

Andrew hands the pill bottle back to Neil. “I won’t be able to stop myself from taking one once withdrawal kicks in,” he explains at Neil’s confusion. “Hold on to them for me.”

Kevin comes ashore and Andrew spots the wound on his arm. “What happened?”

“Kevin decided to stand around while Seth attacked him,” says Neil snidely. “Luckily he wasn’t hit anywhere vital.” He turns to Kevin. “I’ve seen you take a swing at Seth for insulting your diet; you couldn’t defend yourself when he was _actively attacking you_?”

“He’s our ally,” Kevin argues again.

“Was,” corrects Andrew, with a laugh. “Sounds like he isn’t anything anymore.”

“Could have hit you in the brain without hitting anything vital,” Neil mutters irritably, before heading into the jungle. “Let’s go. We need to find some water that isn’t salty or we’re all going to die of dehydration.”

“I would think that you would appreciate the salt, since you’re already full of it,” says Andrew. Neil is proud of himself when he manages to refrain from stabbing him. His temper is already short enough as it is, he can’t imagine that spending prolonged time with an anxious Kevin and a drugged Andrew will improve it.

* * *

They walk for several hours, the terrain sloping steadily upwards. At some point, once all the competitors have separated into groups and the traditional Cornucopia bloodbath is over, there is the sound of two cannon blasts. Two deaths is lowest number that has ever been recorded for the start of a Hunger Games, even taking into account the reduced number of Tributes. They won’t know until tonight who the second casualty is; Neil hopes that it is not Wymack. He doesn’t trust or particularly like Thea or Jean and only cares about their survival with respect to their alliance, but Wymack has proven himself to have Neil’s back time and again, even when Neil has tried to push him away.

Neil is leading them through the jungle; he has borrowed Andrew’s machete to help clear his way. Andrew has been getting progressively more subdued as time passes, beginning his withdrawal but not wanting to test the medication until they have stopped somewhere defensible for the night. Neil knows they’ll have to stop soon; Andrew is still in the first stage of his withdrawal, exhaustion, but it won’t be long before the vomiting starts.

He swings the machete and pushes his way through the underbrush, when Andrew suddenly speaks.

“Neil,” he says sharply, seriously. It is a tone Neil has never heard from Andrew before, filled with worry and warning. He stops short and spins around, holding up his machete in preparation for attack.

Kevin stops too, and looks around curiously. “What is it?” he asks in a whisper.

In response, Andrew picks up a stick from the litter of the jungle and casually tosses it past Neil. Only about a foot from where he is standing, it hits an invisible wall and is electrocuted. It seems they have found the force field around the edge of the arena. If Neil had blindly blundered into it, he most likely would have died.

He breathes out shakily. “Good catch,” he says. “Thanks.”

Andrew reaches out to grab the collar of his wetsuit and pulls him farther away from the force field. Kevin bends over and picks up a handful of small debris, tossing it in an arc so that they can see the shape of the barrier.

They head north, keeping the barrier at their right, throwing debris into it to keep track of it. It curves towards them, steering them back towards the beach.

“I think it’s a circle,” Kevin eventually says. “The whole arena is a big circle.”

Neil wants to keep going - he wants to find a source of water - but it is starting to get dark and Andrew’s breathing has gotten ragged in the past half hour. Instead, he suggests they stop for the night. Kevin looks like he is about to argue, but after a glance at Andrew he acquiesces.

“We’re going to need water soon,” Kevin says in an undertone.

Neil shrugs, affecting nonchalance. He doesn’t want to encourage Kevin’s anxieties, no matter how valid his concerns are. “Maybe it will rain,” he says lightly.

He fishes Andrew’s medication out of his pack and hands it over. “We’ll sleep in shifts,” he says. “You’re going to be buzzing in a few hours once that kicks in, so you can crash now.”

Andrew manages to nod, panting heavily. He reaches for the pill that Neil holds out and Neil almost loses his fingers.

Neil puts the pill bottle away and then finds somewhere to sit. He turns his back to the force field and props himself up against a tree. He keeps an eye on Andrew, making sure that the medication doesn’t have any strange side effects, but he just curls himself miserably against the roots of a nearby tree and eventually drops off to sleep.

The moon is full and unnaturally bright so Neil uses it to judge the passage of time. It is a couple hours later when Andrew is awakened by Panem’s anthem playing loudly. He jerks awake, lashing out violently against the tree he is lying against. Then he blinks sleepily, glaring around. The faces of the dead Tributes are projected into the night sky. Martin Beckstein, the Tribute from District 8, was the other competitor that was killed earlier. Neil averts his eyes from the picture of Seth that follows. He doesn’t feel guilty about his actions - Seth was definitely about to kill Kevin - nor is he particularly upset about Seth’s demise. But he has come to care for Matt and Dan and Wymack and Allison, all of whom will be affected by Seth’s death.

Andrew notices his avoidance and laughs merrily; Neil flips him off. Kevin watches the exchange and clumsily tries, uncharacteristically, to offer some comfort. “It’s not a major loss,” he says.

Andrew just laughs harder. “I’m sure your words of comfort are a balm for his troubled soul,” he says.

“Who says my soul is troubled?” asks Neil.

“Who says you have a soul?” counters Andrew.

“I’m remembering why I don’t like you-” Neil cuts himself off before he can finish his thought. He was going to say how much he dislikes Andrew when he’s medicated, but at the last moment realized that there are cameras everywhere in the arena and that he shouldn’t be broadcasting the fact that Andrew regularly skips his government-mandated medication.

“I’m surprised you forgot,” says Andrew, with a raised eyebrow.

“A mistake I won’t repeat,” replies Neil. He yawns. “I’m going to take my sleeping shift now. Kevin, are you going to be okay for a couple hours?”

“Don’t you trust me?” asks Andrew with false innocence.

“I trust that you currently have the attention span of an excited puppy,” says Neil.

Kevin doesn’t protest, so Neil leans his head back against his tree and closes his eyes. Luckily, in his years with his mother he developed the ability to fall asleep any time in any place, so he starts dozing almost instantly.

He is awoken by a cannon blast. He’s already on his feet before awareness comes to him.

“Who died?” he asks stupidly.

“Lightning,” answers Andrew, gesturing vaguely to the northwest. Several minutes later another lightning bolt lights up the sky in the same general direction that Andrew indicated. Then another, and another.

“Is that… a localized lightning storm?” Kevin asks, between the peals of thunder.

The constant barrage of light and thunder make sleeping impossible. It seems to go on forever, but it eventually stops, leaving Neil’s ears ringing in the silence and his eyes showing the afterimages from the lightning. He hasn’t adjusted to the darkness when the sound of heavy rain approaches.

“Oh, good,” says Kevin. “Rain.”

He lifts his face towards it as it washes over them, but then sputters. It is not rain. It is a thick, driving, relentless downpour of blood.

“Fuck,” says Neil. “I hate this arena.”

“Get to beach!” Kevin yells when he regains his composure and the three of them take off running downslope towards the water. They have to move carefully; the blood is soaking everything, making the ground incredibly slippery. Neil slips in the blood and falls. Hoisting himself up, he tries to get his bearings when he suddenly notices something strange.

“Kevin!” he calls. “Andrew! This way!”

The downpour of blood, which is relentless in the part of the jungle they find themselves, cuts off abruptly a little to the south of their position as if there is a dividing wall between the two sections of jungle. The blood makes a thick curtain between the two sections but nothing prevents them from getting to the other side. They turn and watch the divide with consternation. This is obviously a man-made phenomenon, but Neil can’t think of a reason for it.

“This is your fault!” Kevin shouts at Neil, hysterically.

“How the fuck is fucking blood falling from the fucking sky my fucking fault, Kevin?” snaps Neil. He is really not having a great day and the blood on his skin is both sticky and itchy.

“Stress has a really negative effect on your vocabulary,” comments Andrew blithely. “You’re usually so good with words.”

“‘Maybe it will rain’,” mocks Kevin in a high pitched voice. “You just _had_ to tempt fate. It got in my _mouth_.”

“Oh, fuck off Kevin,” says Neil. “We all got it everywhere.”

Andrew laughs. “The blood on our hands is literal now.” He wiggles his fingers towards Kevin and Neil.

The nearby sound of the blood downpour suddenly stops and the three of them share glances. It was after the abrupt end of the lightning storm that the blood rain had started.

“Tick tock, tick tock,” sing songs Andrew into the tense silence. “What’s coming for us now?”

The words tug at something in Neil’s brain, but before he can figure out what memory was invoked, Kevin nervously says, “Uh, guys?”

Neil turns and sees a wall of mist advancing on them, moving against the breeze.

“Ominous,” says Andrew.

“I vote that we stay away from the creepy mist,” Neil agrees.

“Beach?” asks Kevin.

“Beach,” confirms Neil and, again, the three of them run towards the beach.

Their path is through heavy jungle and so the mist is gaining on them. Neil does not want to know what will happen when it reaches them. They are almost at the beach when it does, and unsurprisingly it is awful. It burns his skin wherever it touches him. He is getting sluggish and progressively more uncoordinated the longer he is exposed and his legs are getting stiff and difficult to control. He stumbles and almost falls, but then Andrew is at his back, propelling him forward. Kevin is slightly ahead of them and the three of them stagger onto the beach and stumble away from the jungle, throwing themselves into the water.

By the light of the moon, Neil can see the blood washing off his skin, creating a dark halo around his body. The white mist is also seeping out of him into the surrounding water. He grunts in pain as the mist - which he suspects is a paralytic - is leached from him and feeling returns to his limbs. Looking up he notices that the mist has stopped at the treeline, but it only appears along a small wedge of the jungle. Turning slowly he sees that this wedge lines up perfectly with one of the Tributes’ twelve starting plates.

“Tick tock,” he says to himself thoughtfully. Then, louder, “The next time I see James Rhemann, I am going to feed him his own liver. This arena is the fucking _worst_.”

* * *

They float lazily in the water for a while to recover; however, the abundance of seawater is only making their lack of drinking water more apparent. They have been in the arena for approximately twelve hours by now and have spent the majority of them being physically active in the humid warmth. Neil is considering just wetting the inside of his mouth with the salt water despite the fact that he knows that it will not help.

He sits with Kevin and Andrew on the shore and explains his epiphany about the arena.

“It’s a clock,” he says. “The lightning storm was localized and lasted about an hour, right? And then the blood rain started, stayed around for about an hour, and then the mist.” He points to the sections of the jungle to demonstrate. “As far as I can tell the lightning started at around midnight, so it should be just after three now.”

“So we’ll stay out of that section of jungle,” says Kevin, pointing at the section of jungle beside where they’d escaped the mist. “Not that it matters since we’re all going to die of dehydration anyway.”

Just as Kevin speaks a silver silk parachute appears, bringing them a gift from their sponsors.

Andrew laughs. “Haven’t people been watching? Who would want to sponsor you two lunatics?”

Kevin sends him a dirty look and opens the package, brow wrinkling in confusion at the object inside.

“Thank… you?” he says hesitantly to the air.

Neil recognizes the object. He and his mother had seen and used them when living between districts. “It’s a tapper,” he says slowly. “It’s used in the northwest to tap trees for maple sap.”

“Okay…” says Kevin.

“It can also be used as a spile to collect water from trees,” explains Neil.

Kevin’s confusion clears and he hands the spile to Neil who takes it to the treeline and taps one of the trees. It takes him a couple tries until he gets it into the tree’s xylem, but then a steady stream of water trickles out. He drinks deeply, then lets Kevin and Andrew drink their fill. He takes the water skins that he collected from the Cornucopia and fills them. Once they are finished, he gives the spile to Andrew for safekeeping.

They decide to retreat a short ways into the jungle. They don’t go out of sight of the beach; they want to stay close in case the jungle unexpectedly starts trying to kill them again, but they don’t want the exposure that the beach affords. Andrew is starting to come down from his last dose so Neil takes a seat near him so that they can talk quietly while Kevin takes his turn sleeping.

“Your mother taught you how to swim,” says Andrew in a whisper. “Yes or no?”

Neil snorts inelegantly. “If by ‘taught’ you mean threw me into a frigid lake and wouldn’t let me out until I could swim, then yes.” He thinks for a couple minutes, trying to decide what he wants to ask Andrew that he wouldn’t mind being broadcast nationally. There’s not a lot. “What’s the most absurd thing you ever spent any of your winnings on?” is what he settles on.

“Nicky’s education,” says Andrew without pause. “It did nothing but encourage him to try to dress me.”

Neil gives him a slight smile. “I didn’t know you paid for Nicky to attend design school; that was nice of you.”

“I am not nice,” says Andrew. “I made him a deal. After my Games Aaron wanted to come and live with me at the Tower but he still needed a guardian. Nicky agreed to be his guardian if I helped him with his school fees.”

Neil nods and then can’t stop a yawn from escaping. Andrew gives a little sigh and then reaches up to grasp the back of his neck.

“Yes or no?” he asks.

Neil isn’t sure what Andrew’s asking for but answers, “Yes,” anyway. Andrew pulls Neil’s head down until it’s resting on his shoulder. Neil relaxes a little and they sit together in silence, Neil taking comfort from Andrew’s quiet steadiness.

* * *

The sky is beginning to lighten when a cannon goes off, indicating that another Tribute has died. Kevin jerks awake and looks at them questioningly before grumbling in annoyance. Neil can just see a hovercraft through the treetops, picking up the body somewhere to the south of the central lake.

It turns out that Kevin is not a morning person, but Andrew is nearing the second part of his withdrawal and it is time for him to take his next dose and crash for a few hours. Neil provides Andrew his pill and then has to work to keep Kevin awake, sending him to jog around the area in which they are camped. He sends Kevin to go survey the beach in regular intervals since he is expecting to meet Jean, Thea, and Wymack there sometime this morning.

After his sixth scouting trip Kevin reports that there’s some disturbance in the section of jungle directly across the lake from them, meaning that it is between 8 and 9 in the morning. They decide that they should go wait on the beach for a little while in case Jean, Thea, and Wymack are also watching from the trees and waiting for them.

Neil tosses one of the water skins at Andrew to wake him up. They all drink their fill and then replenish their water supply before heading towards the lake.

They amble out onto the beach, keeping their guards up in case any hostile competitors are anywhere nearby. Neil notices that the 8-9 section of jungle is quiet now. They have not been on the beach long when three figures come stumbling out of the jungle across the lake from them. They are all thrashing wildly, flailing their limbs around them and swatting at their limbs.

“Friend or foe?” asks Andrew, squinting in the sunlight.

Neil shields his eyes with his hand and narrows his eyes to bring the figures into focus. “I’m pretty sure the big one is Wymack,” he says.

They start walking along the beach around the north side of the lake. The three competitors across the lake quickly notice them and start to head north from their side. Soon, they can tell for sure that the Tributes heading for them are Wymack, Thea, and Jean. They meet near the wedge of jungle that Neil has identified as the twelve o’clock position, and Kevin and Thea rush into each other’s arms, checking each other for injury.

“That’s more emotion than I thought Kevin was capable of,” remarks Neil.

“Thea, too,” says Andrew in agreement.

Wymack comes over to the two of them. He is covered in small, red bites.

“Insects?” guesses Neil.

“Demon insects just came out of nowhere,” confirms Wymack. “How are you two tiny assholes holding up?”

“Oh, we’re doing great!” says Andrew enthusiastically. “We’re alive, aren’t we?”

Neil throws one of the water skins to Wymack and watches as he drinks like a man dying of thirst, which isn’t far from the truth. Thea and Jean react similarly. Neil shows them their spile and refills the water skins.

“Any idea what we can do for food?” Jean asks.

“Insects are full of protein,” says Neil.

Thea shudders. “No,” she says sharply. “I’m not going anywhere near those things again.”

“Any edible plants?” Wymack asks him. Neil is the only one of them with any experience living off the land; his knowledge of poisonous berries had helped him take out a few of his competitors last year.

“Nothing obvious,” he says. “There might something, but we’d have to spend more time in the jungle while I search; I don’t think any of us are too eager to do that unless we have no other options.” The others accept this easily.

Again, a sponsor gift arrives with what they need. This time the silver parachute brings them bread: twenty-four rolls baked in the style of bread from District 2. They eat their breakfast gratefully, thanking their sponsors profusely, before discussing their plans. They are interrupted part way through the conversation by a giant tidal wave suddenly appearing from the treeline farther down the beach on their right.

“Must be the 10 o’clock section,” says Kevin. “Let’s not get caught in there.”

At the confused looks of Thea, Jean, and Wymack, Neil explains what he’s deduced about the arena and what traps they’ve encountered in which sections. They come to the consensus that they should stay out of the jungle, and to only enter those sections that are nowhere close to the time that their traps are active.

Andrew suggests that they head to the centre island. From there they can monitor the beach for their opponents, keep an eye on the time, and resupply and arm themselves with what is left in the Cornucopia.

“You’ll have to go back in the water,” Neil points out. Andrew manages a pretty impressive glare, even through the haze of his medication. “Jean’s a better swimmer than I am, maybe you can get him to take you.”

“No,” says Andrew instantly.

“What will you give me for towing you out there?” Neil asks, mostly joking.

“What do you want?”

“What are you willing to give me?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” says Andrew, then pauses. “I will think of something.”

Wymack is watching their exchange with a look of dawning comprehension. “Christ,” he mutters. “Unpredictable assholes.”

Andrew pointedly twirls a knife and Wymack raises his hands in surrender, but smiles to himself. Neil has no idea was just transpired, so he decides to ignore it.

They slowly make their way to the centre island. Jean keeps an eye on the dog paddling of Kevin, Thea, and Wymack, and Neil tows Andrew. As he is doing so, the lightning storm starts at what must be noon. Neil and Andrew pause their swim to watch the lightning, noticing that it keeps striking the same place - a tall tree at the highest part of the 12-1 wedge of jungle.

Due to their little break, Neil and Andrew are the last to reach the island. The others have spread out among the weapons and supplies littered around the Cornucopia. Andrew hefts a spear and, spotting something on the ground, makes a satisfied sound.

He picks up a large spool of some kind of wire. “Conducting wire,” he tells Neil.

Neil’s about to ask a question when he hears shouting. Looking up he sees the Tribute from District 6, Chris Hawking. The man is huge; even as a teenager he had been big enough to kill several other Tributes with his bare hands. He had even crushed the skull of one of his competitors. He has emerged from his hiding place within the Cornucopia and has swung a club directly at an unprepared Kevin. The shout that Neil heard was Wymack, launching himself between Kevin and the club. There is a sickening cracking sound when the club makes contact with the back of Wymack’s head. A cannon blast is heard.

“Andrew,” Neil says, panicked, desperately trying to get his bow ready and to notch an arrow. He knows he will be too slow to help Kevin. Luckily, Andrew is already moving, throwing his spear towards Hawking. Thea and Jean have also reacted to the commotion, Thea with a knife and Jean with his trident. The three weapons hit their target and Hawking goes down with a gurgle, and the cannon sounds again.

“No,” Kevin gasps, pushing Wymack’s weight off of his back and then turning and cradling him in his arms. “No, no, no, no, no.”

Thea and Jean are both staring in shock and Neil is stuck to the spot. He has seen so much death in his life, but very rarely was it someone he actually cared for.

“No, no,” repeats Kevin. “Come on, you’re alright.”

“Kevin,” says Thea, far more gently than Neil had thought her capable, approaching from behind Kevin’s shoulder. “Kevin, I’m sorry, he’s gone.”

“He’s not!” argues Kevin. “He’ll be fine.”

“Kevin,” says Thea again, sounding at a loss. Wymack will clearly not be fine.

“Neil,” Andrew says quietly from beside him, tugging at Neil’s fists where he has curled his hands so tightly that his nails are drawing blood from his palms.

“I’m fine,” Neil says automatically. Andrew just gives him a look, the current situation grave enough that his unnatural smile has been wiped from his face. “It’s just, I thought-” he cuts himself off and shakes his head. He knows that Andrew understands. They are being rescued tonight. They only have to survive the arena for about twelve more hours. They had figured out the dangers of the jungle. He had really thought that they all might make it.

Kevin is still holding Wymack’s body, begging him to be alright.

“I didn’t know they were that close,” says Neil absently, beginning to feel a little detached from the whole situation.

“He’s his father,” says Andrew simply. Neil turns to gape at him. Andrew shrugs and doesn’t elaborate.

“Well, fuck,” says Neil.

Suddenly, the ground underneath their feet rumbles.

“What fresh hell is this?” growls Neil. “ _Fuck_ this arena.”

He thinks at first it is an earthquake, but instead the centre island starts to spin. He manages to hang onto a nearby rock formation and pulls Andrew close as the spinning gets faster. He can hear Thea and Jean and Kevin all shouting, but just closes his eyes and waits for it to stop.

When it does, he opens his eyes to find that almost everything that had been strewn around the island has been spun into the surrounding water, including both Hawking and Wymack’s bodies, which are nowhere to be seen. Kevin is still obviously in shock and Jean and Andrew are both vomiting.

“I think,” says Andrew sardonically, “that the gamemakers have given us a subtle hint to leave the island.”

“Oh, fuck,” says Neil in realization. The sun is practically directly overhead. “We don’t know which section of jungle is which.”

Thea leads a silent and vacant Kevin over to them. “Let’s just pick a direction and go,” she says.

* * *

Once they reach shore Neil occupies himself by picking up a stick and drawing a map of the arena in the wet sand. They have to get the force field down at midnight tonight and he’s no longer sure of their placement. He knows that the 10 o’clock tidal wave will help situate them, but he doesn’t know if they will have enough time to reach the tree that the lightning will strike at midnight and for Andrew to rig up something to dismantle the force field if they wait that long before they start.

He looks up at the sun. It’s moved across the sky enough that Neil has a good idea which direction north is, but he’s not sure that the 12-1 wedge of jungle is due north anymore. He wouldn’t put it past the gamemakers to try to disorient them further.

Jean comes and looks at his map as he adds a little drawing of an insect in the 9-10 section and a wave of water to the 10-11 wedge. They join his doodles of a lightning bolt, raindrop and cloud that represent all the traps that they’ve encountered so far.

“Where do you think the other Tributes are?” Jean asks.

Neil draws a skull and crossbones across the two southernmost wedges. “One of them died around dawn this morning, and I saw the hovercraft in the south, meaning they were killed by something down here. The others are probably still in that general area.”

“That’s assuming they’re in an alliance and not killing each other,” says Thea, joining them. Kevin trails listlessly behind her.

“You know them better than I do,” Neil shrugs. “Do you think that they’re allied with each other or not?”

“It would be smarter for them to be working together,” says Jean. “The only one of them that would refuse to work with others is… was Hawking. And we now know that he was hiding in the Cornucopia.” He sends an apologetic look to Kevin.

“Let’s assume that they’re together, then,” says Neil. “Now, we know that they’ve likely come into contact with at least one trap in the jungle, but there’s no reason for us to think that they’ve figured out that the traps are repeating in twelve hour intervals. So, at least until later tonight they’ll probably be staying in the jungle.”

“They’ll avoid the beach as long as we’re on it,” says Kevin. “We’re five and there are only two of them left.”

“So let’s get off the beach and trap it,” suggests Andrew from where he’s silently appeared behind Neil.

“How?” asks Jean.

“We know that the lightning hits the tallest tree in the 12 o’clock section multiple times between 12 and 1, yes?” says Andrew. “And we know that the tidal wave at 10 leaves the beach wet. If we run conducting wire from the tree to the central lake, the electricity from the lightning will electrocute everything touching the sea water, including the damp sand.”

“There’s no guarantee that they’ll be on the beach,” Thea points out.

“No, but there is a chance they might be. And it’ll be easier than trying to hunt them through the jungle,” Neil points out. He’s thankful that Andrew has come up with a plausible reason for the setup they will need to disable the force field.

“Alright,” says Thea slowly. “That could work. Kevin?”

“What?” asks Kevin. He’s intently studying Neil’s rudimentary map. “Oh, yes, fine. Let’s try that.”

Neil briefly wonders what Kevin’s plan is for when it gets down to the five of them. Based on Kevin’s reaction when Neil had brought up the rebels he can’t really imagine Kevin informing Jean or Thea about the potential rescue. Therefore, Jean and Thea have no reason to stay allied with them if all the other Tributes are dead. He wonders if Kevin is just pretending that the five of them could just live in harmony and have happy picnics until they are rescued. With luck they should be out of the arena before there are only five of them left. Neil doesn’t want to have to deal with Jean and Thea turning on him and Andrew.

“The only problem is that we don’t know exactly where we are,” says Neil. “I think we’re somewhere around here-” he points his stick at the 3-4 and the 4-5 wedges “-but I have no proof. The 10 o’clock tidal wave will make it obvious, but we can’t wait that long; we should set up the trap as early as possible before we lose daylight.”

Jean looks up at the sun, then at the nearest treeline. “It’s what, 2ish?” he asks.

“Thereabouts,” confirms Neil. Then, as he realizes what Jean is suggesting, “Aw, no.”

Andrew laughs a little. “Well we cunningly discovered the blood rain and the creeping mist; you two have only found stinging insects so you’re one behind.” He gestures towards the jungle. “In you go. Mind the trap.”

Thea raises an eyebrow. Neil is reluctantly impressed with how much sass that simple action conveys. She clearly does not want to leave Kevin and doesn’t know how to diplomatically tell Neil and Andrew that she doesn’t trust them at all when they are still technically allies.

Kevin doesn’t seem to notice the tension between the rest of them. He straightens from where he’s been studying the map, settling his shoulders into his usual casual arrogance. “Well, then, what are we standing around for?” he demands imperiously. “We should all go. We’ll have a better chance of fighting off whatever the trap is if we work together.”

Andrew snorts. “Yes, Kevin, we all know how you feel about unity and teamwork. Didn’t you have a nice speech on that topic two years ago?”

Kevin ignores Andrew’s reference to the speech that helped brew rebellion. “We won’t go very far into the jungle,” he decides. “As soon as we notice that a trap has been sprung, we come back to the beach.”

“Unless it’s something like the tsunami which will just kill us all instantly,” mutters Jean.

“Then we’ll all be dead and we won’t care anymore,” says Neil.

“Oh, Neil,” says Andrew. “How good you are at finding the silver lining.”

“Stop wasting time,” says Kevin irritably. “Let’s go.”

The rest of them follow without comment; even Andrew somehow manages to obey Kevin and refrain from making needling remarks. Neil wonders if Kevin realizes that their sudden acquiescence is because they’re worried for his fragile mental state as opposed to them suddenly giving him what he believes he is owed as his birthright. Kevin has never been that self-aware so Neil highly doubts that he would even consider the former.

They cautiously make their way into the jungle, keeping their backs facing each other and making a loose circle. Neil has his bow drawn and an arrow notched, Thea holds her axe at the ready, Andrew casually swings his machete, Jean brandishes his trident, and Kevin has his spear ready to throw. They are tense as they wait for something to happen.

It is almost a relief when they hear the scream. A man’s voice calls out in pain from farther into the jungle and screams for help.

“Well that confirms that,” says Thea, clasping Kevin’s elbow and pulling him hurriedly towards the beach. “Three o’clock.”

Neil turns to follow them but out of the corner of his eye he notices that Andrew’s frame is tight with tension. Instead of heading back to the beach, he has taken a step farther into the jungle. His face is drawn and bone white, even with his medication running through his veins.

“Andrew,” says Neil. “Andrew, what is it?”

A woman’s scream joins the man’s and all the hairs on Neil’s neck stand up straight. He recognizes that scream.

“Andrew,” he says more insistently, understanding dawning of what has frozen Andrew to the spot. “Andrew, it’s not real, it’s a recording, let’s go.” He steps in front of Andrew to block his route farther into the jungle and waves a hand in front of his face. He wants to grab him and pull him to the beach but he knows better than to touch him without permission.

Andrew’s eyes flick to his, before another shout of pain is heard, stealing his attention. “Andrew, help me!” the voice calls.

“Aaron,” says Andrew, moving to push Neil out of his way.

“Andrew, no,” says Neil sharply. “It’s not real. Ignore it. Come with me. Please.”

“I don’t like that word,” Andrew grits out.

“Then I won’t say it again,” says Neil. “Let’s go back to the beach. It’s a trick.”

“How do you know.”

Just then the woman’s voice shrieks, “Nathaniel! Nathaniel help me!”

Neil clenches his jaw. “Because that is my mother’s voice. And she is dead. And she has never once called me by my real name.”

“Neil is your real name,” Andrew says. He meets Neil’s eyes and nods with visible effort. He reaches out blindly and Neil holds onto his wrist to ground him before taking off towards the beach.

He wonders why the others haven’t come to see why the two of them are taking so long. He gets a sinking feeling in his stomach when he sees the three of them standing at the treeline. Their hands are raised and it looks like they are yelling, but Neil can’t hear anything.

He finds out why as soon as he and Andrew reach the edge of the beach: there is a barrier. It is solid and transparent, thick enough that no sound passes through. Thea uses her axe to try to break it and Andrew uses all his strength smashing it with his machete, but neither weapon is even able to scuff it.

Neil turns his back to the barrier and slides down to sit propped against it. Andrew takes a seat at his side and Neil resigns himself to spending an hour trapped in the jungle, listening to the pleading and screams of his mother and Aaron.

Then it gets worse.

“Junior,” a new voice calls. “Junior, where are you?” His blood freezes at hearing his father’s voice again. He puts his hand up to cover his ears but he can’t block out the sound. “I’m cutting into her, Junior. Don’t you love her? Don’t you want to save her?”

He startles when a hot palm curls around the back of his neck. He opens his eyes (when had he closed them?) to meet Andrew’s intense stare. “Not real,” Andrew tells him.

“Not real,” Neil repeats.

“Hey AJ,” says a fourth voice. Andrew stills, his hand tightening around Neil’s neck. Neil reaches out to clasp Andrew’s free wrist. “I’m so excited that you have a twin AJ. We’re already having some fun. Why don’t you come join us; he’s not as sweet as you are.” If Andrew’s reaction had left any doubt as to who this voice belongs to, the words wash out any lingering uncertainty. Andrew has revealed to him that he hadn’t been planning on killing Drake during his Victory tour - he’d already known that he was moving to the Tower at Betsy’s suggestion - but that Drake had expressed too much interest in Aaron for Andrew to let him live. Neil fervently hopes that it had hurt a lot when Andrew had killed Drake.

“Not real,” he reminds Andrew.

“Not real,” Andrew manages to parrot back at him.

They spend the rest of the hour like that, reminding each other that the sounds are not real, sitting together side by side, Andrew’s hand on the back of Neil’s neck and Neil clutching Andrew’s other wrist, powerless to do anything but listen to their abusers taunt them while their loved ones scream for help.

* * *

When the barrier comes down the others are watching them curiously, tensed and obviously waiting for something to come out of the jungle. Since they couldn’t hear through the barrier they clearly are not sure what has actually occurred.

Thea and Jean look like they’re not going to ask what happened, likely correctly assuming that given the Capitol’s track record that the answer will be, “Nothing good.” Kevin, of course, has no such tact.

“What happened?” he finally demands, looking between Andrew and Neil and the jungle.

Andrew ignores him and reached out a hand toward Neil. “Neil,” he says. “Pills.”

It’s a little early for his dose. Since the beginning of the Games he has been putting off taking his next dose until he’s almost reached the second stage of his withdrawal. This allows him to crash and to get a couple hours of sleep that he otherwise wouldn’t be able to, and gives him a period of time where the drugs affect him less. Neil realizes that if he takes his medication now it will time his next comedown for the hours approaching midnight so that he will be able to focus on taking down the force field. He hands over the pill bottle and turns to address Kevin.

“There were recordings,” he explains succinctly. “They played fabricated recordings of people we care about being hurt.”

“But…” Kevin sounds confused, looking back at the jungle as if he is still expecting a tyrannosaurus to come tearing out of it. “But you knew they were fake. It doesn’t sound that bad. Why are you both…?” he trails off, at a loss for what, exactly, Neil and Andrew are, but waves a hand towards them; his gesture encompasses their entire bodies.

Neil gives Kevin and incredulous look. “How would you have liked to hear your mother or your _father_ begging for help without being able to do anything?” he says sharply. That succeeds in shutting Kevin up, a look of horror coming over his face.

The other three are quiet and respectful after that. Neil wants to tell them not to bother; he is a master at repression and Andrew has just taken another dose of his medication and is therefore incapable of caring about his own pain.

Now that they know where they are and in which twelfth of the arena they can find the tree that will be hit by lightning at midnight, they work to set their plan in motion. They wrap the end of the wire around a rock to weigh it down and throw the rock in the lake. The wire is carefully unspooled as they make their way through the jungle. Andrew is being deliberately unhelpful, collecting acorn-like nuts and bouncing them off their heads when their attention is elsewhere.

Kevin is getting more and more irritated and is probably about to say something harsh that will only make Andrew laugh but will leave Kevin frustrated and Neil angry. Neil considers how to make Andrew stop; he doesn’t want any pointless infighting right now. _Huh, how about that_ , he thinks. He’s trying to _prevent_ an argument instead of instigate one.

“Andrew, can you pl-... stop that right now?” he says, managing to cut off the word ‘please’.

Andrew gives a theatrical and completely unbelievable pout. “Oh, Neil. You’re no fun.”

“Yes, well, that’s too bad. You know that being fun is my greatest wish,” replies Neil dryly. “I’m usually the life of the party.”

“Ha!” Andrew cackles. “Only if everyone else we know is dead… which for us isn’t actually that far-fetched.” He’s quiet for a couple moments. “What will you give me?” he asks.

“You still owe me something for towing you out to the Cornucopia earlier,” Neil reminds him.

Andrew expels a put-upon sigh, says, “Fiiiiine,” and throws one last nut at Kevin, who angrily bats it away and stomps off in a huff to go complain to Thea who is guarding their flank.

They reach the tree before long; it is very noticeable as the tallest tree in this area of the jungle by far. Neil picks up a handful of the nuts that Andrew threw at them earlier and tosses them past the tree. They crackle against the force field, which is only a couple metres away.

“Don’t wander into that by mistake,” he warns the others.

Andrew gets to work, winding the wire around the tree. He is very adamant about not climbing the tree himself - Neil agrees with him: it is really not safe for him to be in a precarious situation with his current attention span - so Neil climbs up into the top branches to wind wire around them.

He takes a minute to check what everyone is doing from his position at the top of the tree. He left his bow and arrows on the ground and he can see Andrew fiddling with them, presumably to conduct the electricity from the tree to the force field when the time comes. Kevin and Jean are nearby trying to find anything edible and Thea is refilling their water skins.

It is dark by the time they are finished preparing the tree and the moon has risen, big and full. They sit down to consume their newest sponsor gift - more bread rolls. They supplement it with some fruit that Kevin found that Neil proclaims isn’t poisonous and then drink their fill and refill their water skins again. The humidity of the arena is starting to weigh on them; even the water of the central lake matches the air temperature so they are all longing for relief from the heat.

There is not much for them to do then but wait for midnight. Thea and Kevin lie down to get a couple hours of sleep. Neil does not even consider trying: the echoes of his father’s voice and his mother’s screams are still fresh enough in his mind that he knows that restful sleep will be impossible to come by.

He estimates that it is somewhere between eight and nine that evening when Panem’s anthem blares throughout the arena. Then, the faces of the dead Tributes are projected into the sky. Chris Hawking, District 6; Carolina Lakes, District 9; David Wymack, District 11. Kevin chokes off a sob and Neil bows his head.

When 11 o’clock rolls around there are an awful lot of growling and rumbling noises coming from the wedge of jungle to the west. Neil wonders if there is a dinosaur stalking around the arena after all.

As it gets closer and closer to midnight Neil gets more and more nervous, his mind offering up multiple ways that everything can still go wrong. He is on high alert but when the attack comes he is still taken by surprise. He thinks, later, that the sounds coming from the 11-12 section of jungle masked the approach of their opponents.

A knife flies out of the trees directly at Kevin, but he manages to duck out of its way. It hits Jean in the leg when Kevin dodges. Thea hefts her axe and takes off into the forest after their attackers. This is the third time that the other Tributes have deliberately targeted Kevin. If Neil had thought that the president didn’t want Kevin dead then he is disabused of that notion. Someone has obviously convinced the others to try to kill the rebellion’s chosen inspiration.

Kevin runs over to Jean in order to tend his wound. “Stay with Andrew,” Neil instructs him, before picking up the machete and running into the jungle to help Thea, leaving the bow and arrows for Andrew to take down the force field.

“Remember our deal,” Andrew calls after him, meaning: _Stay alive_.

“I will if you will,” Neil calls back, meaning: _You too_.

Neil follows the sounds of movement through the trees, tracking three bodies. They are moving fast, but he is faster. He runs to intercept the slowest and catches up with his quarry quickly, leaping from his feet to tackle his opponent. They roll together through the underbrush, grappling against each other. In the back of his mind, Neil hears a cannon blast but his attention is occupied by Luke Herrera, the Tribute from District 7. They wrestle a little, but Neil is at a distinct disadvantage, being outweighed by about a hundred pounds. Herrera manages to pin him, holding down his machete-wielding arm. Struggling wildly, Neil gets his other hand on one of his knives and slashes blindly. Herrera gasps and looks down, his grip weakening. Neil pushes him off of him, pulling his knife out of where he’s stabbed it into Herrera’s femoral artery. Herrera gasps in pain and desperately tries to stem the bleeding, but there’s no way he’ll survive the wound. Neil sits, panting, as Herrera’s movements get slower and slower until finally he lays still and a cannon goes off.

He recalls hearing a cannon sound earlier, but he doesn’t know if Jean’s wound was severe enough to kill him, or if Thea is dead or if she killed the last Tribute - Jill Leverett, District 5, his brain absently provides. He hears someone approaching and gets to his feet, holding his machete towards the threat.

It is Thea. She is also full of tension, holding her axe out in front of her. Her eyes flick to Herrera’s body.

“I killed Jill,” she says. “Only the five of us are left.” And to her that means that she and Neil are now enemies.

“We are all on the same side here,” he says.

“How can we be?” she asks. “We can’t all win.” She takes a step towards him. He’s not sure that he can win a fight against her; he’s quicker, but she is bigger and stronger and better trained.

“Thea,” he says, a little desperately. He doesn’t want to fight her; even if he wins he’ll alienate Kevin. “Think about who the real enemy is here.”

She looks taken aback but stares at him with a look of intense scrutiny on her face. Their tense standoff is interrupted by lightning: it is midnight. The blinding light and ear shattering sound of thunder staggers them. The entire sky lights up before crackling apart as the force field comes down.

“Your tracker,” he realizes. He takes out a knife to carve his own tracker out of his left forearm. The trackers were put into all the Tributes before the Games in order to keep track of them in the arena and monitor their life signs. “You need to remove your tracker.”

She stares at him, but takes out a knife to cut into her arm. “Did you plan this?” she asks incredulously. “What’s happening?”

He is cut off from answering by a hovercraft materializing overhead. They are both immediately caught in the immobilizing tractor beam which sucks them up into the craft. Neil desperately hopes that this is his promised rescue.

It is not. They are immediately surrounded by Peacekeepers and are forcibly disarmed and restrained. Neil doesn’t see any evidence of the others on board; he wonders if they, at least, were rescued as planned.

They are silent as they travel, flying through the early morning hours. Eventually, the hovercraft lands and they are lead into a building and through ornate hallways; Neil recognizes the architecture from the banquet he attended at the President’s mansion.

As expected, they are brought before the president. Riko Moriyama sits on one side of an enormous desk, his hands steepled together as he surveys them shrewdly. Neil is relieved to see anger in his eyes; had he caught all of them he would be smug.

“I will give you one chance to answer this question,” he says. “Where is Kevin Day?”

“Somewhere you can’t touch him, you worthless piece of shit,” spits Thea. Neil is surprised at her vehemence. He probably will not live for much longer but a small part of him will love Thea for the rest of his life for that response.

Riko smiles coldly. “You’ll pay for that,” he promises. “But I wasn’t asking you; you are clearly not the ringleader here.” He turns towards Neil. “I think that someone else gets that distinction, don’t you?”

“I think fuck you,” Neil responds.

Riko looks past him to someone who has just entered the room. “Loosen his tongue,” he commands. “Do whatever you need to in order to make him talk.”

Neil turns around and his heart stutters in his chest.

“Oh, and Lola?” says the president lightly to the woman who is watching Neil delightedly. “Make sure you make it hurt.”

“Oh, Junior,” says Lola with a truly malicious grin. “You and I are going to have so much _fun_ together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Spoilery Warnings:** Neil kills Seth, Wymack is killed protecting Kevin, Neil and Andrew are trapped in a section of jungle where recordings of their abusers are played taunting them and hurting their loved ones.
> 
> Seriously, this whole thing started like this:  
>  **me:** I should write something short and fluffy now that I've finished [No Mourners, No Funerals](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9945872).  
>  **my brain:** You know in Mockingjay when Peeta is captured and Katniss starts to realize how much she actually feels for him? And then she gets him back, but his memories have been corrupted and he doesn't trust her and starts spouting all the terrible things that she's always thought about herself?  
>  **me:** (suspiciously) Yes...  
>  **my brain:** That, but with Neil and Andrew.  
>  **me:** ...  
>  **my brain:** Oh, and Wymack's dead.  
>  **my brain:** You're welcome.
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	3. the scars that mark my body, they’re silver and gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The comments for the last chapter made me want to apologize a lot, so: I'm sorry. I'm also sorry in advance for this chapter. Coming up: angst. Feel free to yell at me :)
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: violence, torture, hallucinations, non-consensual drug use, unreliable memories, discussion of scars (including a reference to self-harm), minor character death (see end notes for spoilers)
> 
> I can be found on tumblr [@gluupor](http://gluupor.tumblr.com).

He doesn’t know how long he’s been in this room. He remembers - or thinks he does - being brought here: Lola, grinning like a jackal, strapping him to the table; a man, completely average looking and wearing a white lab coat, watching him as though he is a steak and the doctor is starving.

“Junior,” Lola had said. “This is Dr. Proust. He has some very interesting ideas and you’ve been volunteered to help him test them.”

He had tried to appear unaffected, but Lola had just laughed. “Oh, Junior,” she giggled. “I am going to hurt you now. Feel free to scream.”

She had. And he had.

Dr. Proust fit him with an IV and fiddled with it while Lola questioned him. His perception then devolved into nothing but pain, and shattered colours and lights.

After that, it repeats. Sometimes Lola comes to him, sometimes it is Romero. Andrew is there, threatening to gut him like a pig. Kevin criticizes his bleeding. “Put some effort into it, Nathaniel,” he snarls derisively. His mother shows up to tell him that he deserves everything that’s happening to him.

Janie breaks his arm, and Seth slits his throat, and Wymack just looks at him with disappointment. Rats crawl out of the walls and bite into his skin, birds peck at his eyes, wasps fly into his ears. He can’t tell when he’s awake or asleep. Has he been here a day? A week? Twelve years? Forever? He wonders if he’d been born here and his whole life outside of this room was just an illusion.

Today Lola has something strange planned for him. The lights have gone off - that in itself is not that strange, he is often (sometimes? always? once?) left in the dark. He is humming to himself, a little tune from a lullaby his mother had once sung to him (or was it Lola?) when the door to the room opens and several large crickets come inside.

It isn’t the first time that insects have been in the room with him, but it is the first time that the insects have disguised themselves as humans. They have a pleasing green bioluminescence.

“Neil,” says one of the crickets. He knows it is a trick. He will not be fooled.

“I do not speak cricket,” he tells them, hoping they will go away and leave him alone.

They do not. “Holy fuck Neil, what did they do to you?” the same cricket says while moving towards him. He flinches away from the cricket when it reaches for him with its pincers which it has disguised as hands.

“Christ, he’s high as a kite,” says a different cricket that is suddenly beside Neil. Neil whips his head around to watch it. There are too many of them to keep in his line of sight.

“Go away,” he says miserably. “Leave me alone.”

“Just inject him with that sedative and let us get out of here; someone’s going to notice that we’re here sooner rather than later.”

“We don’t know what other crap is already in his veins,” the first cricket hisses. Can crickets hiss? Maybe these are cockroaches? Their disguises are very good. It’s only their giant bug eyes that give away their real identities.

The cricket that sneaked up on him is undoing his restraints. He tries to jump off his bed, but only succeeds in crashing to the floor. The crickets start chirping at each other angrily and one of them pinches him and then he falls asleep.

* * *

When Neil wakes up he is in a sterile white room surrounded by people in scrubs. His head feels clear for the first time since he’s been in Lola’s clutches. He is in pain and confused. What is Lola up to now? He is surprised to find that he’s not restrained, so he pushes himself up on his bed and tries to stand up. He is immediately stopped by the people buzzing around the room. They tell him that all the drugs are out of his system, that he is safe, that he is in District 13, that he has been rescued. He does not believe these obvious lies and thrashes against their hands.

“Get someone in here to calm him down!” a man calls.

There is a thump outside the door, the sound of a body hitting the wall, and Andrew shoves his way inside.

Neil recoils and stops struggling, his fear momentarily making him freeze in place. He is assaulted by memories: he remembers Andrew pushing him off the roof of the Tower, he remembers Andrew slicing into his stomach with a knife while he lay restrained, he remembers Andrew choking him. Memory after memory after memory are all telling him the same thing: he was right not to believe the doctors. He is not safe.

“Neil,” Andrew says, taking a step towards him.

“Get away from me,” Neil snarls and launches himself forward, striking out at Andrew. He is weakened by hunger and prolonged torture so his attack is off target; despite his surprise, Andrew dodges it easily. He stares at Neil for a couple beats before his face twists into an unnatural grin and then he is laughing.

The doctors grab Neil again and he resumes struggling.

“Let me go!” he shouts. “He did this to me! He’s here to kill me! You said I was safe, you liars! Keep that monster away from me!”

He feels a prick on his arm and his vision begins to cloud. Still, he fights the drug and continues to try to convince the people restraining him that Andrew is dangerous, that Andrew helped Lola torture him. His protests eventually start slurring together as he loses his grip on consciousness. Above all the noise that Neil is making he can hear Andrew as he just laughs and laughs and laughs.

* * *

The next time he wakes he is in a different sterile white room. He is restrained this time, shackled to his bed. He jerks on his restraints, testing them. They are padded; his wrists are bandaged beneath them. While he’s distracted the door to his room opens and someone comes in. He turns to face the intruder and is confused to see that it is Abby.

“Abby?” he asks, incredulous that she is helping keep him in captivity.

“Hello, Neil,” she says. Her face has an expression of immense sadness. “You remember me?”

“Of course I remember you,” he tells her. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the remains of District 13 with the rebellion,” she explains. “You were rescued from the Capitol a few days ago.”

“District 13?” Neil repeats, confused. This is what the lying doctors told him earlier, as well. “District 13 was destroyed.”

“The people of District 13 were killed by the Capitol during the last rebellion,” Abby says patiently. “But the residential structures remained, including this underground bunker. The rebels have taken them over as their headquarters.”

She tells him that he is safe, then adjusts his bed so that he is sitting up and then proceeds to ask him all sorts of questions that he doesn’t understand the relevance of, asking him to relate his memories of competing in the Hunger Games and living in the Tower. He distractedly answers her questions - not bothering to lie since she isn't asking for any secret information - while trying to decide if she is lying to him or not. The worried crease doesn’t disappear from her forehead.

“Abby,” he eventually cuts her off. “If I’m safe and rescued, then why am I still restrained? What’s wrong?”

“You reacted violently the last time you woke up; you’re restrained for everybody’s safety including your own. You’re very ill.”

“I’m fine,” Neil protests. “What do you think is wrong with me?”

She takes her time before she’s able to meet his eyes and that’s when Neil realizes that whatever she thinks is wrong with him is very, very bad.

“Neil,” she says gently. “You are not remembering things correctly.”

“What?” Neil is taken aback. “What… what do you mean? What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that whatever was done to you has somehow managed to change and distort some of your memories. I’m saying that about half of what you’ve told me never happened. I’m saying that you can’t trust your own mind anymore.”

* * *

It takes several days and Neil having to relive and relay his muddled memories of his time under Lola’s ministrations before the doctors have a working theory for what has happened to him. Abby patiently explains it to him. When Lola was questioning him about his life, she says, she wasn’t looking to extract information from him, she was just making his brain bring those memories to the fore. Then he was injected with a cocktail of drugs to cause hallucinations, pain, and fear. The result is that his memories are corrupted and he doesn’t know which are real and which are not.

Abby explains that some of his memories of his time with Lola cannot possibly be real; for instance, Kevin and Andrew definitely weren’t there since they were in District 13 for the entire time that he was held captive, and Wymack, Seth, and Janie are dead.

“I know that they’re dead,” says Neil, hollowly. “I remember killing them.”

Abby looks taken aback and then gently corrects him. He did kill Seth, she tells him, to defend Kevin, but he wasn’t responsible for Janie or Wymack’s death.

He doesn’t believe her, so she acquires footage of their deaths that was broadcast during the 74th and 75th Hunger Games. He wants to question whether this footage has been faked, but when he watches it he instinctively knows that it’s real, even though it disproves his memories. He had been justifiably skeptical when Abby told him that his memory is faulty, but now he has actual video evidence that his mind has betrayed him.

Robin is sent to spend time with him; she is supposed to catch him up on everything he has missed and correct him when he remembers something incorrectly. She is obviously annoyed about this task.

“It was supposed to be Matt,” she complains to him. “But he’s busy with his training. They won’t let me join them.”

“Training for what?” Neil asks.

“To fight the Capitol!” she cries. “I want to be in the army, just like everybody else.”

“You are seventeen,” Neil points out. “I don’t really know much about what a normal childhood is like, but I’m pretty sure that you shouldn’t be in the army.”

She crosses her arms petulantly. “I won the Hunger Games when I was fourteen.”

“You won because a landslide took out three quarters of your competition and you managed not to die of exposure and dehydration,” Neil says. “Not because you’re a natural killer.”

She glares at him. “I could be a killer. Everyone keeps treating me like a child.”

“It’s not bad that you’re not a killer,” he says, rolling his eyes. “And if you don’t want to be treated like a child, then throwing a melodramatic tantrum like a teenager is probably not the best idea.”

“Oh, fuck you,” she sniffs. “Your whole life is a melodramatic tantrum. Besides, you’re still a teenager and they’re going to let you fight.”

“I don’t want to fight,” says Neil, tiredly. “I want to sleep.”

She softens minutely. “Nightmares?” she asks. “They suck, huh?”

“Yeah, Robin,” he says. “They suck.”

She does eventually get around to updating him on what has happened. It has been three months since the night when Neil was taken by the Capitol. Almost all the districts are in revolt, with only Districts 1 and 2 holding out. There has been actual fighting against the forces of the Capitol and the rebels are in complete control of Districts 8, 10, 11, and 12.

Kevin has been working with James Rhemann (who Robin says is one of the leaders of the rebellion) and Stephanie Walker (Renee’s adopted mother and another rebel leader who used to work in communications for the Moriyama regime) to create propaganda pieces to sway general opinion in their favour.

Neil is surprised that Kevin has agreed to star in such videos.

Robin shrugs. “Andrew was adamant that he do so. Something about an agreement…?” she trails off and gives him an apologetic look.

“I’m not going to go off the deep end if you say Andrew’s name,” says Neil, a little impatiently. “I watched the last Games; I know we’re allies, even if that’s not how I remember it.”

“It’s strange,” says Robin thoughtfully. “We all thought the two of you hated each other since all you did was hurl insults and avoid each other. We assumed that your alliance was grudgingly arranged. But then, watching the Games, it was clear that you two were quite close. Do you really not remember at all?”

“I remember things,” says Neil, frustrated. “I remember him attacking me a lot and I remember being scared of him.”

Robin snorts. “I was there the first time you met him. You began antagonizing him immediately. I don’t think you were ever scared of him.”

Neil thinks back. “The night after my Victor interview with Kathy Ferdinand?” he clarifies. He tries to remember his feelings from that night. “No, I wasn’t scared of him,” he realizes.

“See?” says Robin triumphantly. “Your memories are lying assholes. Just like you!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be making me feel better?” he asks.

“I am! I was reassuring you that you fit in here!”

He points at his blank expression. “This is my reassured face.”

“You’re going to be a hit when they get you into the propaganda videos.”

“Why would I be in any propaganda videos?”

“Oh, we’ve all been in them,” says Robin flippantly. “My theory is that they’re worried that if we show Kevin too much his true personality will come through, so they spread out his appearances.”

“Even Andrew?” Neil asks incredulously. Even with his wonky memories he highly doubts that Andrew would ever be a good subject for propaganda.

“No, he’s locked up in isolation, getting weaned off his medication.”

“What?” he asks, surprised. “Since when?”

“Abby managed to bring some of his pills with her when we fled the Capitol, but there was only a limited supply. The leaders of the rebellion wanted to get him off of them right away, but he refused; he wasn’t willing to go through withdrawal until you were here.”

“Me?” asks Neil, taken aback. He tries to think why Andrew would want him here. “Oh,” he says in realization. “Because of Kevin. He couldn’t leave him unprotected.”

Robin looks at him skeptically. “Because you’re doing such a good job of that, sitting here in the medical wing?”

Neil shrugs. “That’s the only reason I can think of that Andrew would care whether I live or die.”

“That’s the only one?” demands Robin. “You don’t think there’s any chance that you’re his friend and he wants you safe?”

“Andrew hates me,” says Neil. “I know my memory isn’t reliable, but I can remember him telling me that enough times for me to believe it.”

Robin doesn’t disagree, but she doesn’t agree with him either. Instead, she changes the subject and tells him more information about living conditions here in District 13.

* * *

Now that Neil has proven that he is no longer violent - Aaron Minyard was even sent in with Abby to help change his bandages, which in Neil’s opinion was a useless test since a) even though they’re twins, Andrew and Aaron are clearly not the same, and b) he only attacked Andrew because he was feeling trapped; there’s no guarantee he won’t lash out at Andrew again if he corners him - and is mostly healed from his injuries, he’s discharged from the medical wing.

Accommodations are cramped and resources are limited in District 13. Before the failed rebellion seventy-five years ago, District 13’s industry had been nuclear technology, research, and development. The Capitol, fearing that District 13 may have access to nuclear weapons, had been swift and brutal in sweeping through the district, not allowing the residents to retreat to their underground bunkers. Everything surface level had been razed to the ground, but the bunkers remained, their existence known only to a few. According to the information provided to him by Robin, the rebellion had taken them over about fourteen years ago, after President Tetsuji Moriyama had died and Riko had wrested control of the country from his older brother in a bloodless coup.

Neil is assigned to live in a small apartment, which he has to share with Matt and Jean. Neil is a little confused to find Jean alive. The broadcast from the end of the Games is very hectic, but it very clearly shows Andrew attacking Jean with a knife as Kevin, at Andrew’s direction, shoots an arrow wrapped in wire into what appears to be midair just before the lightning strikes the tree. The transmission cuts out just as the force field falls.

Neil asks Jean what happened and Jean explains that Andrew had cut out his tracker, that Andrew, Kevin, and Jean were all knocked out from the shockwave that the force field gave off when it overloaded, that they’d woken up on board a hovercraft heading to District 13. Andrew, apparently, had been incredibly displeased when it was discovered that Neil had been taken by the Capitol. It had taken Renee, Betsy, and Matt to pull him off of Neil’s uncle.

Matt greets Neil heartily when he enters their apartment. “Neil!” he cries. “You’re looking much better.” He must catch Neil’s confusion - because when had Matt seen him? - because he explains, “I was part of the team that rescued you.”

“Thank you,” says Neil automatically. “I don’t remember.”

Matt gives an unamused laugh. “That doesn’t surprise me; you were in pretty bad shape. Lola died too quickly after what she did to you.”

Neil feels his heart squeeze. “She’s dead?” he manages to ask even though his lungs don’t seem to be working properly.

“Yup,” says Matt proudly. “On our way in we shot her and DiMaccio and that creepy doctor who was working with her.”

Neil is starting to feel lightheaded, and Matt notices his distress. “Shit, sorry, Neil,” he apologizes. He’s flapping around Neil like a giant, worried bird. “I should have given you that information more gently. Breathe, please?”

Neil manages a hiccup, which seems to restart his lungs. He takes several quick breaths, and then some deep ones, until he’s breathing normally.

“Are you upset?” Matt asks hesitantly.

“Of course I’m upset that she’s dead,” says Neil.

“Uh, that’s probably some kind of weird Stockholm syndrome,” says Matt. “Or your memories are confusing you again. She was evil.”

“No, I mean I’m upset that she’s dead but I didn’t get to pull the trigger or see the body,” explains Neil.

Matt smiles. “It was pretty satisfying,” he admits.

“Tell me about it,” Neil requests. “Why was there even a rescue mission? I’m not important.”

Matt looks heartbroken, but starts telling him more about the propaganda videos that Kevin’s created. They’d started making them almost as soon as they’d all arrived in District 13; the earliest videos were mostly footage of Peacekeepers violently cracking down on residents of the districts interspersed with Kevin looking disappointed and speaking earnestly about banding together. The Capitol had responded by putting Thea on television. She had looked haggard and drawn, and had defended Kevin by saying he was nothing but an unwitting pawn being used by people who wanted to sow discord. They had been living in stability and security before these people became violent, she pointed out. They were using Kevin, pulling his strings, making him lie to the general populace. She’d finished up by saying that Kevin’s actions were only hurting those he cared about: a clear threat from the president about what would happen to her if Kevin continued to support the rebels.

Kevin had, predictably, crumbled at the threat from the man who had owned him for as long as he could remember. His anxiety and fear had driven him to new heights of being intolerable, especially in the absence of his usual coping mechanism (alcohol was not available in District 13). He had refused to shoot any new videos; he and Andrew had even come to blows about it. That was when the rebellion leaders started planning a rescue mission.

It had taken some time for the mission to be planned so, in the meantime, the other Victors had filmed videos, explaining why they oppose the president. Even Andrew had filmed one: it showed him speaking with Betsy, talking about his medication and how it is used to control him.

The rest of them all told stories of their loved ones being threatened if they didn’t fall in line with the president’s wishes. They revealed that he allows his rich supporters to buy time with any Victor that they choose - and that the supporters are allowed to spend that time however they wish. Refusal by the Victor in question has harsh consequences; all the Victors here have suffered from their refusals.

Matt has tears in his eyes as he tells Neil that he told the world about his mother - whom Matt had adored - and how she had died in a suspicious accident shortly after Matt denied a ‘request’. His problems with morphling had arisen following his mother’s death.

Jean is the only one among them not to have refused, submitting to Riko’s demands in order to protect the life of his younger sister. He had spent hours upon hours ‘entertaining’ the ladies and men of the Capitol who wanted to have a small piece of the heartthrob from District 4. Luckily, Jean’s sister is now safe and sound in District 13 so he was able to speak out against the president without fearing for her.

Stephanie Walker’s knowledge of the Capitol’s broadcasting network and Neil’s uncle’s technological know-how allowed the rebels to play their videos throughout Panem. On the night of Neil and Thea’s rescue, they had bombarded the network with many of the Victors’ videos, causing a distraction. On top of that, an offensive strike in District 5 had disrupted the Capitol’s power grid. Matt and Dan joined a team of rebel soldiers to infiltrate the facility where Neil and Thea were being held. There had been resistance from the guards in the facility, and Lola and DiMaccio had been caught in the crossfire.

“And you’re sure?” Neil checks. “You’re sure she’s dead, not wounded?”

“She was riddled with bullets, Neil,” Matt assures him. “I’m sure she’s dead.”

“Okay,” says Neil in relief. “Good.”

* * *

Food is tightly rationed here. Meals are served in a large cafeteria, where everyone is served a set amount of food. Matt decides that they will head to dinner late, after most people have already eaten and left, so that there will be fewer people there in order to avoid overwhelming Neil.

Luckily, Matt is correct and there aren’t very many people in the cafeteria. He waves greetings at several people that Neil doesn’t recognize. They all stare at Neil with unbridled curiosity, making him want to flee, but Matt steers him to a table where Dan, Renee, and Allison are finishing up their rations.

Dan gets up as they approach and pulls Neil into a hug. It is fierce and protective and possessive. She has always treated him like a little brother, and Neil soaks up the comfort she offers. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispers into his hair. “I couldn’t lose any more of my family.”

Renee greets him as well; she doesn’t touch him but does express her happiness that he’s on the mend. Allison, looking as polished and put together as always, stares down at her plate, a grimace twisting her beautiful features.

“I killed Seth,” Neil says, not wanting to drag it out, knowing that they need to get this out into the open.

Allison slowly lifts her head and meets his eyes defiantly. “Yes,” she says, almost managing to keep her voice even. “You did. He was supposed to be your ally. If you-”

“No,” says Neil sharply, cutting her off. In his peripheral vision, he sees the others tense in surprise at his tone, but he keeps his eyes on Allison. “A privileged princess like you does not get to pass judgment.”

“Privileged!” exclaims Allison hotly. “I’ve lived with all of you for years. I lived in the Tower longer than you did!”

“That doesn’t make you one of us,” says Neil. “You’ve always had a chance to leave if you wished. You have never been made to kill innocent people for others’ entertainment. You’ve never had to make the choice between your life and your soul. You may support us but at the end of the day you still dressed me up in pretty clothes and sent me off to die.” He meets her gaze steadily. “You do not get to question the choices I made to stay alive, ever.”

Several emotions pass over her face; she eventually clenches her jaw and averts her gaze.

“For what little it’s worth, I’m sorry that someone you cared about died,” he tells her awkwardly, taking his place at the table. He is not guilty for killing Seth, but Allison is his friend. He doesn’t want her to be hurt.

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry that your life has been a never-ending cycle of trauma and tragedy,” she replies stiffly.

Renee expertly breaks the tension, chatting about inconsequential things with Matt and Dan. By the time they’re finished their meal, Neil has relaxed a little and Allison has contributed minutely to the conversation. Neil is pretty sure that their tentative friendship has been irreparably harmed but he thinks that they may have come to a truce.

* * *

He doesn’t see Kevin for several days after leaving the medical wing. He’s not sure if Kevin’s purposefully being kept away from him - he is the only one here other than Andrew who Neil accused of helping Lola torture him - or if Kevin is busy or avoiding him. For his part, he hasn’t been rushing to see Kevin; his most recent memories of the man involve him looming over him and critiquing his technique at being cut open. They are not fond memories.

Kevin shows up at his door after breakfast. He seems taken aback when Neil answers his knock, performing an obvious once over with an uncertain expression on his face. He looks run-down and exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and sallow skin. Neil wonders if it’s just the lack of his chosen crutch that’s causing him to look so obviously unwell or if something else is wrong. Then he remembers that Thea was also taken by the Capitol and that Kevin’s father has recently died and that the rebellion is pinning a lot of their hopes on him. He tries to quell the spike of annoyance that passed through him when he saw Kevin’s face.

“Kevin,” says Neil in greeting.

“I… it’s good you’re here,” Kevin replies. That is all the abysmal comfort that Kevin can offer, apparently. His next sentence is all business. “Come with me, they want to speak with you.”

“‘They’?” echoes Neil.

“Rebel leadership,” Kevin evades.

“Great,” says Neil dryly. “Of the three of them I know - my uncle, James Rhemann, and Renee’s mother - I only have a grudge against two of them.”

Kevin doesn’t respond and Neil worries a little about what information Kevin is obviously trying to keep from him.

Kevin leads him through the bunker, surprising Neil when they head deeper into the structure. He supposes that this makes sense: keep important people as far away from potential air strikes as possible. Kevin holds a door open and ushers him into a command room. Inside a group of people are sitting around a table, seemingly waiting for the two of them. On one side of the table, Neil spots a woman he knows to be Stephanie Walker; she is sitting with a man and a woman that Neil doesn’t recognize. On the other side of the table, James Rhemann is sitting along with Neil’s uncle Stuart and-

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Neil says on an exhale when his eyes land on Ichirou Moriyama, Riko’s older brother, who was forced out of power almost a decade and a half ago.

“Neil,” hisses Kevin over his shoulder.

“It’s good to meet you, Nathaniel,” says Ichirou with an expression that betrays nothing. “I have heard many things about you from Kevin and Stuart, and, of course, I have seen you on television.”

“The only things I know about you are that you come from a line of egomaniacal dictators and that you’re supposed to be dead,” replies Neil coolly.

“My brother greatly exaggerated the rumours of my death. Instead, I retreated here with those who remained loyal and have been consolidating my power and sowing seeds to undermine my brother ever since he seized control of the Capitol.”

“I thought we were in the process of ending Moriyama rule,” Neil says, addressing his uncle.

Stuart shrugs expansively. “Enemy of my enemy and all that.”

“What’s the point in exchanging one corrupt king with another?” Neil asks.

“It’s not like that!” the man that Neil doesn’t recognize interjects. “Once we defeat Riko, Ichirou’s going to work towards a proportional, elected government and better wealth distribution.”

Neil looks at the man. He is sunny, smiling, hopeful. “Who are you?” Neil asks.

“Oh, sorry!” says the man. “My name is Jeremy Knox. I’m a commander in the resistance.”

“I envy you your optimism, Jeremy,” Neil says. “But Ichirou did not seem interested in ending the oppression of the districts when he was in power last time.”

“A mistake I’ve obviously learned from,” says Ichirou, his dark eyes on Neil, assessing. “Can you please tone down that animosity?”

“I can’t,” says Neil, unapologetic. “I have a bit of an attitude problem.” Jeremy and the woman sitting with Stephanie both snort in amusement. Kevin jabs Neil in the lower back.

Ichirou is less amused. “You have a low opinion of me that is not deserved.”

“You haven’t done anything to earn my regard,” Neil points out. “On the contrary: I have been used to further your agenda and incite rebellion and have received very little in return.”

“We came to rescue you,” points out Jeremy. “I led the mission myself.”

“For completely altruistic reasons, I’m sure,” says Neil. “Clearly, you want nothing from me.”

Ichirou’s eyes flash with something like anger but his expression remains calm. “We, of course, thought that you would be eager to strike back at my brother for all the hardship he has caused you.”

“I’m sure you have ideas of how I might best do that,” says Neil, sarcastically. He is angry that he has to cooperate with these men if he wants the rebellion to succeed.

“A few, yes,” replies Stephanie. “Nathaniel, my name is Stephanie Walker, you may recognize me as-”

“You’re Renee’s mother,” Neil supplies.

“Yes,” she says, without missing a beat at his interruption. “I used to work for the government in the communications office, where I responsible for planning the propaganda videos that are regularly shown in the districts. I’ve been tasked with doing the same for the rebellion.”

“Robin’s told me a little about that,” Neil admits.

“Excellent,” says Stephanie. “We’ve been filming interviews here with Kevin and the other Victors and the feedback we’re getting indicates that they’re working to pull support over to our side. But everyone is wondering where you’ve been.”

Neil is confused. “No one cares about me,” he protests.

Stephanie stares at him. “Of course they do!” she insists. “Yes, the main focus is Kevin: ‘the dawn of a new day’ is the slogan of the rebellion after all, but you were so outspoken before the Games that your absence has been noted.”

“Um…” Neil says. He is not comfortable with so many people being aware of him. He’s not naïve enough to think that after appearing in two back-to-back Hunger Games and being an public figure between them that nobody noticed him, he just thought that he was more or less hidden in Kevin’s shadow.

“What we need,” says the woman beside Stephanie, leaning forwards, “is footage of Kevin and his trusty sidekick supporting and encouraging the fighting in the districts.”

“Kevin and his _what_?” demands Neil.

“You want us to go into areas where there is actual conflict?” asks Kevin.

“I’m not his fucking sidekick,” says Neil.

“I’m not going to where I can potentially be killed,” insists Kevin.

“Sidekick,” scoffs Neil.

“Riko can get to me if I go out there,” says Kevin.

“Laila,” sighs Stephanie. “We were going to ease them into it.”

Laila smiles unrepentantly, holding her fingers out in the air to make a frame around Kevin and Neil. “Should I film this for the next video?” she asks innocently.

Kevin is hyperventilating, staving off a panic attack, and Neil has crossed his arms petulantly, still muttering about how he’s clearly not Kevin’s sidekick.

Stephanie’s face is pained. “Only if you want us to lose,” she says.

* * *

Somehow, through a series of bribes, threats, and bargains, Neil finds himself next to Kevin, strapped into a hovercraft on its way to District 3. The fighting is almost over in this district; the rebels have nearly gained control of it. Adding it and District 6 to the four districts already in rebel hands, the Capitol has been beaten back from the entire eastern half of Panem. District 3 also houses a television station that has access to the Capitol’s broadcast network; Neil and Kevin’s visit is going to be recorded. Stuart thinks that he may be able to hack into the network to broadcast them live, but it is dangerous to do so. Stephanie explains that the light on the cameras will flash green if the broadcast is live to let them know.

Neil is not convinced that this is a good idea, but has been voted down repeatedly. They are accompanied by a small group of people: Jeremy Knox is their bodyguard and he’s brought a handful of soldiers with him, and Laila, who Neil has learned is a filmmaker, is there with her assistant, Alvarez (Laila calls her ‘Al’; Neil is unsure whether or not she has a first name), both of them carrying cameras in order to capture Kevin and Neil’s movements. They are scheduled to meet with Phil Higgins, the leader of the resistance in this district and then travel to a nearby hospital to visit the wounded. Neil is not sure how putting him and Kevin in a situation where they’re expected to express empathy and otherwise act like well-adjusted humans is not going to backfire.

Kevin is fidgety on the trip, but at least he looks more rested than usual. Allison and Nicky were in charge of dressing and preparing them for their television appearance. Allison had attacked both Kevin and Neil with make-up to make them look, quote, ‘less like the undead’. She and Nicky had designed costumes for the both of them instead of letting them dress in battle fatigues. Kevin is dressed in sun-adorned clothing so that nobody doubts his place or allegiance; Neil’s clothing subtly mirrors Kevin’s, casting Neil as Kevin’s support, much to Neil’s displeasure.

The meeting with Higgins goes well: Kevin is at least knowledgeable about military tactics and interested in the history of the district. There’s something about him, Neil realizes, when he’s acting like this - calm and competent and confident - that explains why people have chosen to follow him. If Neil didn’t know him so well he would be taken in, too. Kevin in leadership mode is someone worth following.

The trip to the hospital is easier than Neil imagined. The people there seem to take comfort just from Kevin and Neil being there so they don’t have to work too hard to pretend to care about these strangers. Neil keeps close to Kevin’s flank, staying in his wake and trying not to wander too far away from the cameras. If he does, he gets dirty looks from Laila.

A cordoned off area catches Neil’s eye and he pushes behind a curtain to find a well-guarded injured Peacekeeper.

“Nathaniel Wesninski,” the Peacekeeper spits when he sees him. “Traitor.”

Neil looks at the Peacekeeper; he’s not much older than Neil. Although Peacekeepers are the might of the Capitol, they are all born in the districts and trained in District 2. “Am I?” Neil asks. “Who did I betray?”

The Peacekeeper’s face twists. “You’re from District 2,” he says. “You betrayed both us and the Capitol.”

“Aren’t you tired of being a pawn of the Capitol?” Neil asks him.

“I’m not a pawn,” says the man angrily.

“Aren’t you?” says Neil. “I am. That’s why I killed children at their behest. That’s why I killed Seth, and he tried to kill Kevin, and why Kevin would have killed Hawking, and why Hawking killed Wymack. It’s a never ending cycle of violence and the Capitol gets to keep their hands clean at the centre of it. They’re the true enemy; why are we still fighting each other?”

Alvarez has followed Neil into the area, the light on her camera flashing green the entire time, indicating that this entire conversation is being broadcast.

Therefore, the entire country is watching on live television when the Peacekeeper lunges forwards and steals a gun from one of his guards’ holsters and shoots Neil in the chest.

* * *

He is surprised to wake up, his entire chest feeling bruised. Apparently Allison had added some Kevlar to his costume. He’s back in the medical wing of District 13, familiar from the weeks following his rescue. Less familiar is the hunched form of Andrew sitting in a chair next to his bed.

Neil manages to stop his recoil and talks himself through his fear. Andrew is his ally, not his enemy, he reminds himself. He has been told this numerous times during the six weeks since his rescue.

Andrew has noticed his tension. He sits up straight and Neil looks into his eyes. There is an unfathomable darkness and emptiness in them.

“Are you here to hurt me?” Neil croaks, his throat dry.

“No,” says Andrew. He hands Neil a glass of water and then leans back in his chair, keeping his body language non-threatening. He watches Neil with an unwavering gaze. “You got shot,” he eventually says, “on live television.”

“Yes,” Neil agrees. Andrew seems to be waiting for more, but Neil is unsure what he wants.

Andrew gives a little sigh. “I did not suffer through withdrawal for you to renege on our agreement now.”

“Our…?” Neil pauses and closes his eyes, searching for a memory that would help make Andrew’s words make sense. “When we made a deal to both try to stay alive? I thought that expired after the Games.”

“Evidently not,” Andrew says.

“Sorry, I guess,” Neil apologizes. “But in my defense, I am clearly not yet dead.”

“Not for lack of trying.”

Neil hums in agreement and watches Andrew watch him for a while. “How’s sobriety, then?” he asks.

“I wouldn’t mind some whiskey.”

“They don’t have alcohol here.”

“Kevin was unhappy about that when we first arrived,” says Andrew.

“That’s putting it mildly,” says Neil. “Matt told me about his epic tantrum.” They lapse into silence again.

Neil looks down at the bandages through the loose collar of his hospital gown. He peels them off to examine the scar left by the bullet on his upper chest. He gives a disbelieving, bitter laugh.

Andrew looks a question at him so he explains. “I used to have a scar here,” he says, indicating the location of the bullet wound. “After I won the Games I was taken to medical to heal all the damage that I sustained. But they did their jobs so well that I was left without scars altogether. Did they do that to you, too?” Andrew runs a hand along his forearm and nods once. “I guess their Victors have to be flawless. Anyway, I had a large collection of scars; my childhood literally left marks. And I hated them, you know? I wouldn’t let anyone look at them; I had so many arguments with Allison and my prep team when they were trying to dress me. But after, I was so upset when I found that they were gone. I hated them but they were mine. They were…” he trails off, unable to find the correct words for what he’s trying to express.

“Proof of your survival written on your skin,” says Andrew quietly. Neil meets his eyes and sees nothing but perfect understanding.

“Lola said that she was going to put them all back,” Neil confesses. “She made pretty good progress, too.”

“What was the scar from?” Andrew asks. At Neil’s confusion, he elaborates, “The one that used to be there?” He taps his own chest in the same spot where Neil’s wound is located.

“Oh,” says Neil, giving his bitter laugh again. “A bullet.”

“You were shot.”

Neil nods. “My mother and I were evading some Peacekeepers and one got a lucky shot off. Just missed my vest.” He pauses thoughtfully. “At least that’s what I think happened. Apparently my memory’s not the greatest.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Is it ironic?” Neil asks. “That even I don’t know the truth of my life anymore? That even I don’t know what is real and not real about me?”

“No,” says Andrew. “Irony would be if she had done something to make you speak nothing but the truth. A seasoned liar being unable to tell illusion from reality is not unexpected. And to know the truth all you have to do is ask.”

“Just ask yes or no?” Neil asks a little snidely. Andrew doesn’t answer but he continues to watch Neil calmly. “Alright. Yes or no: did you ever drug me against my will in order to interrogate me?”

“No.”

“Did you push me off the roof of the tower?”

“No.”

“Have you tried to suffocate or strangle me?”

“No.”

“Did you beat me with a blunt object?”

“No.”

“Did you attack me with your knives?”

“No.”

“Are you responsible for any of my scars?”

“No.”

“Can you pull off the skin on your face to reveal a monster skull underneath?”

“...What the fuck, Neil,” Andrew says without inflection.

“Yeah, that one may be a hallucination instead of a memory,” admits Neil. He thinks for a couple moments about what else he can ask Andrew before he realizes something. “Why do I believe you?” he asks.

Andrew’s eyes widen a fraction, indicating that Neil’s question has taken him by surprise. “I don’t know.”

“Because based on my memories I shouldn’t trust you at all,” Neil presses. “I remember you trying to kill or hurt me multiple times. But I’ve instinctively believed everything you’ve told me.”

“I’ve never lied to you,” says Andrew.

“Why not?” asks Neil.

“I have no reason to.”

“I don't understand,” says Neil frustrated. “I don’t understand you at all. Are we friends? Something else?”

“I don’t know what we are,” says Andrew. He pauses. “It was supposed to be nothing.”

“Nothing?” questions Neil. “I wouldn’t have so many memories of you if we were nothing. Even though most of them are bad, I have more memories of you than anyone else by far.” He shakes his head to try to loosen his thoughts. “Why did I keep meeting you on the roof?”

“Curiosity, you said.”

Neil presses his palms into his eyes, as though if he presses hard enough he can fix his faulty memory. “I’m so tired,” he says, sounding broken.

Again, Andrew gives him that look of perfect understanding. “Sleep, Neil,” he says.

Neil wants to argue, to say it isn’t that easy, but for once in his life he isn’t feeling argumentative. “Okay,” he says instead, then surprises himself by adding, “You’ll stay?”

Andrew makes another microexpression of surprise before he becomes blank again. “I’ll stay,” he promises.

* * *

When Neil wakes up, Andrew is still there. Neil tenses when he first sees him before forcibly relaxing. Aaron is in the room as well, chatting quietly with Andrew while Andrew eats from a tray of food. When they notice that Neil is awake, Aaron checks his bandages, his touch perfunctory, before taking Andrew’s empty tray and leaving them alone.

“You’re still here,” Neil says with a touch of surprise, his voice hoarse.

“I said I would be,” answers Andrew. “Do you want me to go?”

Neil thinks about it. One part of his mind is telling him to stay far away from Andrew and to hide away his vulnerabilities; the other is saying that Andrew is trustworthy and safe. He can feel a splitting headache coming on. “No,” he eventually says. “I want answers.” Ever since he’d gotten to District 13 people have been telling him information, correcting his memories. But he has a hard time trusting their word without supporting evidence. So far he’s believed everything Andrew has said, making him the best source for information.

Andrew waits, watching him calmly, but Neil feels that there’s something wrong about him demanding a one-way exchange of information. It should be a trade.

“I can remember having conversations with you, but I can’t remember if they are real or imagined,” says Neil. “How about you tell me something real that I told you, so I can compare it to my memories, and then I guess something about you and you can confirm if it’s true?”

“Your mother called you Abram,” says Andrew in lieu of an affirmative, and just like that Neil feels like a hole has been punched in his stomach.

“I told you that?” he croaks. He doesn’t remember doing so, but he must have trusted Andrew to an insane degree to have shared that with him. He can practically feel his mother’s fists punishing him because Andrew knows so much about him. It’s evident in the way that Andrew knew the exact thing to say to start off this game to gain more of his trust. Andrew is also waiting for a response. “Yes,” Neil manages to say. “That’s real.”

He tries to steel himself for the next thing that Andrew will reveal before he realizes that it’s his turn to offer up what he thinks to be real. “Um,” he hedges, trying to think of something that has weight to match Andrew’s turn. “You killed your adopted brother because he threatened Aaron?”

“Yes,” says Andrew without emotion. “Real.”

“Did we sit together and listen to Aaron be tortured?” Neil asks, a memory hitting him.

“In a sense,” Andrew answers. “I was told you watched the 75th Games.”

“Yes.”

“What was shown when you and I were trapped in the forest at 3 o’clock on the second day?”

Neil thinks back to his memories of that time. Andrew with a knife dripping in blood, carving into his mother’s body. Andrew, holding him down while his father flays his skin. Logically he knows that both his parents were already dead so neither of those things could have happened; from the video he has additional proof that his memories are impossible. “The footage is from the beach side: Kevin, Thea, and Jean try to get to us and break the barrier and then they discuss what the hell could be happening. I told Kevin that there were recordings?”

“False audio of Aaron and your mother being hurt by Drake and your father were played.”

Neil considers. “Did you ever meet my mother?”

“No,” says Andrew. “Not real.”

“What did I tell you about her?”

“Bits and pieces. She was paranoid and possessive; she hit you to keep you from doing anything she disapproved of; she was killed by your father, but you didn’t know at first; you got away from him but she succumbed to an internal injury; you burned her body on the shore of a lake outside of District 1.”

Neil feels his eyes sting and wishes for the smell of smoke to blot out these memories. “Real,” he says in a whisper. “How come all the terrible memories haven’t changed?”

“Their aim was to hurt you and then break you so that you could hurt and break the people who care for you. Erasing your trauma wasn’t a priority.”

“Should have been,” grumbles Neil.

“What would you have had left?” asks Andrew.

Neil is at a loss for how to respond to that, because he knows the answer is ‘nothing’. He has always had and been nothing. It does remind him of something he wants to ask, though: “What scars did you have?”

Andrew lifts an eyebrow in question.

“When I told you about my scars being erased after I won my first Games, you said they’d taken yours, too.”

Andrew is silent, collecting his thoughts or deciding whether or not he will answer. “Before I volunteered, when it was very bad with Drake, I was helpless. Sometimes I needed the sharp edge of a blade against my skin to feel in control.”

Neil digests this. “I’m sorry they took those from you,” he says.

“Keep your pity, Neil. I don’t feel anything.”

“Anymore,” says Neil. “Those scars were proof that you once did.”

Andrew doesn’t respond, and Neil takes his silence for confirmation.

* * *

“So your last outing was a huge success,” James Rhemann says.

Following his release from the medical wing, Neil is in a meeting with James Rhemann and his uncle Stuart about his future role with the rebellion. Andrew is also present, for no reason that Neil can discern except that he followed Neil into the room and no one bothered to try to kick him out. Neil doubts anyone was very surprised at his arrival. Andrew’s never far away from Neil for long these days (when questioned about his reasons for this he says it is ‘exposure therapy’ but won’t expand on whether it is for Neil’s benefit or his own). Neil’s not sure why but he mainly feels comforted by this.

Neil gives Rhemann a flat look. “I was shot,” he points out.

“Which worked out quite well for us, actually,” says Rhemann without remorse. “All the districts are in active rebellion now and President Moriyama is pulling back his forces. It won’t be long until we’re ready for a full scale assault on the Capitol itself.”

“Great,” says Neil dryly. “I’m glad that my near death experiences continually provide an advantage to you.”

“Look, Nathaniel,” his uncle starts to say.

“Neil,” Neil cuts him off. “My name is Neil. It shouldn’t be this hard for you to remember, especially since I am the one with the fucked up memory. It’s only four measly letters, one syllable.”

“Neil,” his uncle corrects. “We have a proposition for you.”

“Is it an offer I can’t refuse?” Neil asks sarcastically.

“We would like you to join Star Squad,” says Rhemann with enthusiasm.

“Star Squad,” repeats Neil, unimpressed.

“Yes, it’s a unit made up of all the living Victors, except for Robin, because we’re not about to send a teenager into a war zone-”

“I’m nineteen,” Neil protests. He is unsurprised when he is ignored.

“-led by Jeremy and accompanied by Laila Dermott and her assistant. You’ll be near the fighting so that you can be filmed helping the war effort. To keep the morale up, you know. The point is to show that the Victors are working against the Capitol, not to put any of you into harm’s way!”

Neil turns to look at Andrew but Andrew’s already watching him. Neil raises an eyebrow at him; Andrew gazes calmly back.

“What if I decline?” asks Neil.

“Well we can’t force you, of course,” his uncle says. “But all your friends have already joined.”

“Kevin has agreed to be a part of this?” Neil asks skeptically.

“He has,” confirms Rhemann. “He’s quite enthusiastic about it. He’s taken personal responsibility to get the team whipped into shape.”

“You not only want us to join an active combat team, you want us to train under Kevin’s command?” Neil asks incredulously. He looks helplessly at Andrew. He knows that Andrew will feel compelled by his promise to protect Kevin from Riko Moriyama to follow him into combat. And Neil knows himself well enough to accept that he will greatly dislike staying behind doing nothing while almost everyone he cares about is out fighting. He sighs deeply. “Can I be shot again, instead?”

* * *

Training with Kevin is even worse than Neil expected. The only bright side is that Kevin is terrible at mornings - even worse than when he was hung over all the time - so that they don’t start training until a reasonable time of day. Not that it would actually affect Neil if they started earlier: he is driven from his bed by nightmares every day before dawn. Matt’s getting very practiced at calming Neil down: by not touching him and reminding him of his name and that he is safe.

Kevin is a perfectionist, but he isn’t able to offer helpful suggestions to correct what is wrong. His main teaching method is insulting their technique and then getting frustrated. Luckily, Jeremy is both knowledgeable and helpful and Matt, Dan, and Renee have been training with rebel soldiers for several months now. Neil assumes that without their help and patience, someone would have stabbed Kevin by now.

They go on daily runs for their fitness. Neil has always been good at running, but he finds himself slower than normal, still recovering from his time with Lola and being shot. Andrew, too, has lost muscle mass and stamina since his withdrawal.

Kevin forces them outside no matter the weather, and Neil finds himself pausing in the entranceway one day when there is a torrential downpour outside. Andrew takes a few steps past him before realizing that Neil has stopped moving and turning to find out the cause of the hold up.

Thea stops beside Neil and gives the rain a distasteful look. They have not spoken outside of everyday pleasantries since they were rescued from their captivity.

Thea grimaces. “They waterboard you, too?” she asks.

“Yes,” says Neil, aware that Andrew is still listening. “Real,” he adds for Andrew’s benefit. He still has conflicting feelings about exposing his vulnerabilities around Andrew: on one hand, his mind continues to tell him that Andrew will use them against him in order to harm him; on the other, he instinctively trusts that Andrew will keep his secrets.

Thea clenches her jaw and squares her shoulders. “We will kill them all,” she promises before taking her first step outside into the rain.

Andrew glances out at the downpour and then back at Neil. “Yes or no?” he asks.

Something inside Neil settles. He knows that Andrew won’t force him out into the rain but will be with him every step of the way if he chooses to go. Ever since he’s gotten sober he’s provided Neil with stable support to combat the chaos of their surroundings and Neil’s fractured mind.

“Yes,” Neil says and takes off running.

* * *

Along with training, they are expected to continue making propaganda videos. The responsibility mainly falls on Kevin’s shoulders, but Neil’s starred in one - mostly to prove that he is still alive - and Thea has made an appearance to refute everything she was forced to say while she was held captive.

Kevin records a sentimental interview where he talks about Wymack. Neither of them had known about their familial relationship until after Kevin was already a Victor. Kayleigh had written Kevin a letter that was delivered posthumously on his nineteenth birthday, explaining her decision to lie to both Wymack and Kevin about Kevin’s parentage. She hoped that if Kevin was thought to be the son of a Capitol resident that his life may be easier than hers or Wymack’s had been. Kevin tells the story of their romance; Kayleigh had been the winner of the 49th annual Hunger Games and the following year had volunteered to act as mentor to the Tributes from District 11 as there was not a living Victor from that district. She and Wymack had become close before the Games and after he had won they had fallen slowly in love. It had broken both their hearts when she’d told him that he wasn’t her baby’s father.

The night after this video is broadcast, Nicky is waxing poetic about tragic love stories.

“It’s just so romantic,” he enthuses. Then, he sits up straighter with a gasp. “You two should get married!” he says to Kevin and Thea.

Kevin does an actual spit-take and it is glorious. Neil thinks it may be the highlight of his year. Granted, his year has been terrible, but it’s still objectively funny. If he were the type of person who laughed he would laugh at Kevin’s expression.

Matt does laugh while Thea gives Kevin a judgemental look. Nicky just flaps his arms excitedly. “No, no, it’ll be great!” he says. “What the rebels want is hope for the future, right? And what’s more hopeful than a wedding? Between people from different districts, even!” He sighs dreamily. “Two Victors, finding light and love even in the darkest of times.”

“I am not going to get married before I’m ready to do so for propaganda,” says Thea with finality.

Nicky deflates a little, but Matt clears his throat. “Dan and I can get married,” he offers.

“Oh, can we?” asks Dan archly.

Matt looks to her with a crooked smile. “Everything he said about them applies to us, too. And I’ve known for a long time now that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Nicky coos happily as Dan visibly melts. “A wedding?” he asks. Dan nods. “A wedding!” Nicky shouts, apoplectic with glee. “Allison! Where are you? There’s so much to do!”

Allison, who is sitting approximately two feet away, says, “Calm down there, screechy.”

“I love weddings!” Nicky defends. “And if left to their own devices, they’ll probably get married in battle fatigues or sweats or some other straight person nonsense. You and I have to save them from themselves.”

“Neither of us is straight,” says Dan.

Nicky waves a dismissive hand. “Semantics,” he says. “Oh, this is going to be so great!”

Neil is surrounded by wedding preparations after that. Matt, much to Neil’s surprise, asks him to be his best man.

“Me?” Neil clarifies.

“Yeah, Neil,” says Matt, giving him a fond look. “You’re my best friend.”

“I am?”

“You are,” Matt confirms and ruffles Neil’s hair.

“Oh,” says Neil, feeling secretly pleased. “Okay, then. I’ll be your best man. Except… wait, do I have to do anything other than stand next to you at the ceremony?”

“No,” says Matt with clear amusement. “Just stand there and try not to look bored out of your skull.”

Neil somehow finds himself roped into helping decorate the cafeteria (where the reception is being held) before the ceremony. He’s not quite sure how it happened, but he blames Renee’s sweet, beseeching smile. He doesn’t know who she thinks she’s fooling with her whole innocent act; she’s clearly manipulative.

Through some sort of hilarious mismanagement Kevin has also been commandeered to help decorate. Andrew is present as well, trailing after Neil as usual, not that he’s much help. Neil can’t make himself care about decorating, even though he does want Dan and Matt to be happy, but Kevin apparently has some definite ideas on how the room should look. Neil wonders if it’s just his natural bossiness cropping up or if it’s his need to control everything he can due to his lack of control in other areas of his life.

Nicky comes into the room shortly after they’ve congregated and finds Neil helplessly wrapped in paper garlands while Kevin berates him for incompetence. Andrew is sitting on a table nearby, pulling apart paper flowers. Nicky sighs deeply, leaves without saying a word, and reappears with Robin in tow, before dragging Kevin out of the room.

“Alright, boys,” Robin says clapping her hands together. “I hear that you’re completely hopeless. How did you end up getting talked into doing this anyway?”

“I’m too nice,” Neil grumbles.

“When I got here you were telling Kevin to shut his fat face because nobody cares about his delicate fucking feelings,” Robin says incredulously.

“The truth is not my fault,” says Neil. “Besides, I could have done worse.”

“I have knives,” adds Andrew.

“Pshaw, you two love him, really,” says Robin. “Now, you couldn’t have been more awful at this if you’d tried, so I’m in charge from now on. We’re not half-assing these decorations; we’re whole-assing them.” Neil knows better than to argue with her, and begins to wordlessly follow her directions. Even Andrew ends up not being completely useless.

Then it is time for the ceremony. Neil doesn’t know the officiant, but Matt told him that they’re melding together the wedding customs from their home districts. Matt grins radiantly, staring at Dan in awe with tears leaking down his face. Dan is the happiest that Neil’s ever seen her, her joy infusing her entire being. Renee smiles gently from her place as Dan’s bridesmaid, her eyes shining. Neil tries not to twitch uncomfortably and ruin the idyllic tableau that the rest of the bridal party makes.

Thankfully, the ceremony isn’t long. Dan and Matt pledge themselves together without hesitation and then declare that it is time to party.

They haven’t gotten any more rations for a meal, but Allison has somehow managed to procure a wedding cake for the occasion. Nicky has put together a music playlist that leads to everyone clearing a spot in the middle of the room to dance. Laughing and cheer flow through the room, as if everyone has put aside the outside world for the night.

Neil snags himself a table out of way. He sits quietly and watches the revelry. Andrew has unsurprisingly taken a seat next to him. Others drift over to talk to him periodically but mostly he is left alone.

Andrew leaves to get himself another slice of cake and gets waylaid by Aaron, as Nicky collapses in an exhausted heap in the chair across from Neil.

“Whew,” he breathes out. “I can’t believe we pulled this together. It’ll make a nice video, don’t you think?”

There’s something almost desperate about the question and Neil realizes that Nicky never got a choice in any of this. He joined the rebellion by default, brought here so that he couldn’t be used against Andrew. He’s helped out as much as he can - working with Allison to dress and style everyone for their videos - but otherwise he’s adrift here, far away from his regular life. As a Capitol resident he’s one of the privileged; he could have lived happily unaffected by all of this if not for the fact that he’d once agreed to be Aaron’s guardian.

Nicky’s watching him curiously, Neil having taken too long to answer. “Yeah, it’s nice,” Neil says. “You did a good job.”

Nicky preens under the praise, weak as it was. “I think everyone’s having fun. Not that you would know,” he jokingly scolds. “Sitting by yourself here in the corner.”

“This is me having fun,” says Neil.

Nicky rolls his eyes good naturedly. “Made for each other the two of you are.” He cranes his neck around, searching the crowd for his diminutive cousin. “Where is Andrew, anyway? Weird to see you without him close by.”

“He’s over there with Aaron,” Neil tells him. Andrew and Aaron are close to the cake table, speaking with their heads close together.

“Oh, they’re talking again, that’s good,” Nicky sighs in relief. “Aaron’s been annoyed about our sudden unplanned exodus from the Capitol.”

“It was planned,” says Neil mildly. “It’s not like Andrew would have left without you.”

“But it wasn’t communicated to us,” argues Nicky. “We thought that we were going to have to watch Andrew die during the Games, but then we were suddenly being ushered onto a hovercraft by Renee. Don’t get me wrong, we’re grateful, but some warning would have been nice.”

“And impractical. And dangerous.”

Nicky deflates. “I know. I just wish I could have said something to Erik. Or packed better clothes.”

“And that’s why you weren’t told,” says Neil, then, “Erik?”

“Erik Klose, you know, the escort for District 3?” Nicky explains. “He’s my husband.” At Neil’s disbelieving look, he continues, “Or he will be, one day. We’ve been hooking up for a while - all hush, hush you know. I didn’t want anybody to know before it was serious.” He looks around at the inexpertly decorated cafeteria and sighs dreamily. “One day this will be us. Not in a concrete bunker, of course.”

“Of course,” echoes Neil, without paying attention. He’s back to looking at Andrew, who is still standing with Aaron. Neil hasn’t ever seen him converse with anybody for so long, and he’s barely spoken with anyone other than Neil since his withdrawal. Although, he realizes, this is the second time that Neil’s witnessed him speaking with Aaron. “They’re close, then?” he asks Nicky, indicating the twins.

“Oh!” says Nicky, surprised, and turns to look at his cousins. “Most people think they hate each other.”

“Why? They clearly don’t,” says Neil.

“I know that, but only through long exposure,” says Nicky. “Neither of them react to things the same way that normal people do.” He hums thoughtfully. “It was really bad when Aaron and I first moved into the Tower with Andrew. Aaron had wanted to move because of… um, personal reasons,” he shiftily tries to cover up his near-slip.

“Because his mother was a drug addict who hit him,” fills in Neil calmly.

“How do you know that?” Nicky asks. “Did _Andrew_ tell you that? When?”

Neil searches his memory. The fact about Aaron had surfaced without having think about it, but it takes some digging through his thoughts to remember the particulars. He finds that his mind works like that sometimes now; facts are accessible but the context is harder to pull up. It’s as if all of his truths are wrapped in lies, and if that isn’t an apt metaphor for his entire life, he doesn’t know what is. “Right before he stuck a knife in my ribs and threw me down a stairwell,” Neil tells Nicky. Nicky goggles so Neil shrugs. “I’m pretty sure that’s a false memory.”

“Anyway,” Nicky recovers, still giving him a strange look, “Aaron wanted to get away from home and Andrew offered him a way to do that. But I think that Aaron was expecting Andrew to be different in some way. It didn’t help that he was drugged up to his eyeballs, either.”

“So what happened?” Neil asks.

“They grew up,” says Nicky. “They worked out a truce. I don’t know the details and I don’t care to. They get along fine now, that’s all I care about. I was worried that after Andrew got sober that there’d be a problem, especially with Aaron so mad about leaving Katelyn behind, but if they’re talking I think they’ll be okay.”

“Katelyn?” echoes Neil. “Like my escort Katelyn?”

“Yeah, she and Aaron have a little flirtation going.”

“Andrew told me that Aaron doesn’t swing.”

Nicky gives Neil a wide-eyed look. “Seriously, _when_? You two seemed to hate each other before you were in the Games together and then you were suddenly buddies. Were you secretly hate-fucking last year?”

“I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask,” says Neil dryly.

“Ha! Well, I’m not asking Andrew. I’ve been threatened with a knife enough to learn not to ask personal questions.” He gives Neil a once over. “Well, if you were, way to go Andrew. The things I’d do with you if I didn’t have Erik…”

“Nicky,” says Andrew suddenly from behind him, in a forbidding voice.

“Don’t worry, Andrew, I’m looking, not touching.” Andrew unsheathes one of his knives. “Right-o!” says Nicky, popping out of his chair and making a quick exit. “See you later Neil!”

Andrew leaves the vacated chair and circles the table to sit beside Neil. He has a piece of cake on his plate.

“How’s Aaron?” Neil asks.

Andrew gives him a level look. “Good. He’s almost completed his certification to be a field medic.”

“Oh,” says Neil. “Yay?”

Andrew just continues eating his cake.

“So,” says Neil, breaking the silence. “ _Were_ we secretly hooking up last year?”

Andrew freezes with his fork on the way to his mouth. He slowly returns the fork to his plate and turns to look at Neil. “Wouldn’t you remember that,” he says flatly.

“I certainly remember secretly spending a lot of time with you,” says Neil agreeably. “Granted, in my memories you’re usually trying to hurt me in some way, but we know those memories have been tampered with. I don’t know what they’re covering up.”

“You don’t swing.”

“I don’t, but I’ve never been allowed to before,” Neil points out. “And I do remember telling you that it’s different when it’s you. Is that real?”

“Yes, that’s real,” Andrew replies, then, “What makes you think that I would be interested?”

“Well, you’ve been pretty subtle: calling me pretty, blatantly checking me out, following me around, helping with my memory,” says Neil lightly. “I used my super sleuth skills to put it together.”

“I’m impressed,” says Andrew blandly. “I thought that you’d need to be explicitly told that I’d blow you before you figured it out.”

“Such a romantic. Do you say that to all the boys?”

“Only the ones I hate.”

“Would you?” asks Neil, backtracking. “Blow me?”

“Is that a request?”

“No,” says Neil. “We haven’t even kissed yet.”

Andrew’s fingers fiddle a little and Neil wonders how much he misses his cigarettes, another thing that is unavailable in District 13. It’s a shame, really: Andrew should smell like whiskey and smoke. When Andrew speaks, his voice is bored. “Yet? You flinch away from me if I surprise you. You tense every day when you see me, as you remind yourself not to either fight or flee. You are scared of me. I am not doing anything with you while you do not trust me.”

“I trust you,” objects Neil. “I can’t help my instinctive responses, but I would never let you this close if I didn’t trust you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“All your actions since I’ve been in District 13 say otherwise,” Neil says. He gives Andrew a minute to respond before he speaks again. “Look. I don’t understand it, and I don’t know what I’m doing, but I don’t want to ignore it because it’s new. All your objections have been on my behalf, but you haven’t actually refuted the fact that you are interested. If you don’t want to, fine, I’ll drop it, but don’t try to take my decisions away from me. Enough people are already doing that.” When Andrew still doesn’t react, he continues. “Think it over. That’s probably not a bad idea, anyway.”

“Everything about you is a bad idea.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” says Neil. “Anyway, it’s a yes from me. Ball’s in your half of the court.”

* * *

It is shortly after Dan and Matt’s wedding that the rebels begin their assault on the Capitol. Kevin reaches a fever pitch in their training with only Jeremy’s calming influence preventing the rest of them from lynching him. Jeremy’s characteristic cheerfulness has been dialled up to eleven since Dan and Matt’s wedding; Neil had woken the next morning to find Jeremy and Jean in the common area of his apartment sitting in their boxers drinking terrible instant coffee, Jeremy looking sheepish and Jean looking smug. Nobody but Neil appeared even slightly surprised by this turn of events.

Star Squad - a name which Neil refuses to use, even in his own mind - is called into a strategy session before their deployment. There are screens set up around the briefing room showing real time troop movements. The rebels are executing a four-pronged attack on the Capitol, each one led by one of their most accomplished commanders: Charles Whittier from District 6, Louis Andritch from District 8, Phil Higgins from District 3, and Kurt Browning from District 10. Their team is going to be under the command of Whittier.

Rhemann details the Capitol’s defenses to them. In addition to the Peacekeepers there are more sinister protections. He superimposes a map of bright green dots over their schematic of the Capitol. They are placed at irregular intervals and have annotations such as ‘spike trap’ or ‘explosive’ or ‘flamethrower’.

“These are pods,” he explains. “As you can see, they are placed throughout the Capitol. They lie dormant until they are remotely armed, then release various traps when triggered. The president has evacuated the outlying areas of the city, pulling the entire population into the city centre.”

“Is this map 100% accurate?” Dan asks, studying the layout intensely.

“No,” answers Rhemann. “These pods started being manufactured and placed before the last rebellion seventy-five years ago, so there may be some mislabelling of the oldest pods. Additionally, I stole this map when I fled the Capitol and I imagine that Riko Moriyama has had the other gamemakers hard at work designing and placing new pods.”

“Gamemakers?” says Jeremy in confusion.

“Who else would be so talented at making traps designed to confuse and kill?” Neil asks rhetorically.

“Yes,” admits Rhemann. “One of my tasks as head gamemaker was to design and place new pods to defend the Capitol. Arenas were littered with similar defenses.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, let the 76th annual Hunger Games begin,” says Matt dryly.

“Jeremy and Dan will each be given a holographic device that has the map of the pods on it,” says Rhemann. “Generally you will be sent to areas that have already been cleared - that’s to say all the pods have been tripped or deactivated - but you must remain alert. Those in charge of the pods are able to manually trigger them remotely.”

“Well then why would they leave any on automatic triggers?” Thea asks. “They could just watch the rebel soldiers’ advance and set off the pods at the most opportune moment.”

“A couple reasons,” Rhemann says. “We’ve been disrupting as much of their video surveillance as possible, so they don’t have visuals of all the pods. Also, there are hundreds of pods; there aren’t enough people to monitor them all.”

“If they were smart they would set up traps - let us think that all the pods have been triggered when the scouts search the area, but then manually set them off when the larger force follows,” says Kevin. “Or, for maximum damage, keep two pods untriggered. One to set off when the bulk of the force follows and one to set off once the medical personnel swarm into the area to help the injured soldiers. Depriving us of the support of medics will strain the war effort the fastest.”

Jeremy looks askance at Kevin. “That seems rather mercenary,” he says.

“You don’t know our opponent like I do,” says Kevin, looking a little uncomfortable at Jeremy’s disapproval.

“I don’t think it will come to that,” Rhemann says. “Killing non-combatants or civilians is the fastest way for Riko to lose support in the Capitol. Still, Kevin raises a good point. Discipline and awareness are necessary once you get into the field.”

“To that end, chain of command is important,” Ichirou Moriyama tells them. “Jeremy is in charge of your squad, Danielle is his second in command.” He gives piercing stares to both Kevin and Neil. “Insubordination will not be tolerated and will be punished harshly.”

Rhemann waits a couple beats before he turns towards where Laila, Alvarez, and Stephanie Walker are standing against the back wall. “Anything to add?”

“We’re going with you in order to film you,” says Laila. “Little pieces to keep troop morale up, mostly. That means that we want you looking heroic and in sync. It would be helpful if you could appear to like each other and like you are happy, or at least determined, to be there. Kevin, if you could appear _not_ to hate all your teammates, that would be great.”

“That’s a pretty big ask, Laila,” jokes Matt.

“If you were less incompetent, it wouldn’t be,” sniffs Kevin.

“So the complete opposite of that would be perfect,” says Laila.

Kevin opens his mouth to say something else, so Neil reaches over and pops him in the back of the head to cut him off. Kevin whips around to glare with incredulous disbelief.

“If you hit me again,” he starts to say.

“You’ll what?” Andrew asks with disinterest.

Kevin turns to Thea, but she just shrugs without sympathy. “Fight your own battles,” she says.

Jeremy swivels his head around, looking between all of them. When Kevin doesn’t say anything more, he claps his hands together once. “Alright,” he says. “Go team.”

* * *

The first couple weeks after they are sent to the Capitol pass without issue. They are mostly cold (it’s winter) and bored; they go out during the day to film action shots, brandishing their fake guns and diving around wildly. Andrew stands off to one side, arms crossed and face impassive. Laila has tried exactly once to get him to participate. Neil would stand with him except that moving around helps him deal with his restlessness.

The only bright spot is that Kevin has taken Laila’s request to pretend to like his team members to heart. As usual, whenever he’s on camera he practically changes personality. He’s decided to teach them about teamwork, which is fairly ironic since he’s been raised to be a champion and what he knows about teamwork could probably fit in a thimble. Matt confides to Neil that he thinks that Kevin once read a pamphlet and is just regurgitating motivational quotes.

Dan and Matt have a contest going, to try to see who can get Kevin to say the most absurd thing. Jean and Thea act predictably aloof about the contest, but Jean gives them a triumphant look when Kevin tells him that, “Sticks in a bundle are unbreakable,” and Thea sends Dan a challenging glance when Kevin is adamant that, “If everyone is moving forward together, then success takes care of itself.”

Neil isn’t participating in the contest, but Kevin gives him and Andrew a significant look as he gravely says, “A chain is only as strong as its weakest link.”

Neil sifts through all possible responses and settles on the simplest: “Fuck you, Kevin,” he says.

“Neil!” hisses Laila from behind the camera. “Remember that you like Kevin.”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot,” says Neil, smiling his father’s knife-sharp smile. “In that case, Kevin, remember that none of us is as smart as all of us. That includes you.” He can spout trite phrases about teamwork, too.

Matt chokes on a laugh, and Kevin huffs and storms off. Jeremy rolls his eyes good naturedly. He’s doing a fairly good job pretending that his team isn’t made up of a bunch of damaged assholes.

Renee, dark horse that she is, wins the competition outright when Kevin actually says, in all seriousness, that, “There is no ‘I’ in team.” She takes his advice soberly, but a crooked grin slips out and there is a spark of mischief in her eyes.

At the beginning of their third week out in the field Jeremy receives a message from Ichirou Moriyama and James Rhemann. To the surprise of no one, the propaganda videos that they are filming are too boring; they are too clearly staged. Star Squad is redirected to clear out a neighbourhood. Laila and Alvarez are to film them as they deactivate a couple pods.

Jeremy activates the holo, showing the information about the pods in the area. There are two along the street where they’ve been sent. The closer one is labelled as a turret, and the second is a net trap.

“Okay,” says Jeremy. “We’ll take cover here-” he indicates a low stone wall “-and shoot this pod to activate the turret. The holo says that it has a finite number of bullets, so we’ll wait for it to exhaust its ammunition before we move forward. Then we’ll find something that we can throw into the trigger of the net trap to spring it. Questions?”

“Al and I are going to set off some smoke grenades for atmosphere,” Laila says. Jeremy turns to stare at her and she shrugs. “It’ll be more dramatic,” she defends.

“Okay,” says Jeremy, sounding weary. “Everybody suit up.”

They’re all taking this more seriously than usual since there is the distinct possibility that one of them could catch a bullet if they’re not careful and they know that there could be unknown pods along their route. Laila and Alvarez also suit up in protective gear before scouting the location for the best camera angles.

They head out in proper formation, with Jeremy in the lead and Andrew guarding the rear. Laila and Alvarez flank them, getting the footage they need. Jeremy gets them into position in cover and then signals Kevin to shoot the turret pod.

For the next few minutes they’re able to do nothing but wait as bullets ping off of the street and stone wall that they are crouched behind. After the shooting stops, Jeremy tosses something over to wall to make sure that there isn’t a motion-activated function. When nothing happens, he cautiously stands.

“We need some reaction shots,” Laila says.

They spend the next half hour or so filming insert shots as Laila directs. Matt has difficulty keeping a straight face as Kevin has to repeatedly dive into cover in order to get the exact shot that Laila wants. Finally, she gets the shot and they’re able to move on.

“Are you sure you got what you need?” asks Matt. “If not, Kevin can do some more dramatic diving into cover.”

“Fuck you,” says Kevin haughtily.

“Oh, come on, Kevin,” says Dan, chuckling. “This is great for team building. After all, teamwork makes the dream work.”

Even Jeremy is laughing as he takes a step farther down the street, triggering an unmarked pod and causing the ground under his feet to explode outward.

The rest of them freeze in shock as chaos erupts around them. There are smaller explosions along the length of the street and they are showered in debris. Andrew is suddenly at Neil’s back, pushing him to the ground. Neil resists, fighting back, believing that Andrew is finally taking this opportunity to kill him.

“Abram,” growls Andrew when Neil smashes his elbow backwards, catching Andrew in the cheekbone. The name gives Neil pause. Abram is real. He settles himself; Andrew is not going to hurt him.

“We have to retreat!” Dan calls. Neil surveys the situation. Dan and Matt are blocking a hysterical Jean from getting closer to Jeremy’s remains while Renee has her gun up, her sharp eyes assessing their surroundings. Kevin and Thea are nearby, Kevin with a piece of shrapnel sticking out of his calf. Laila and Alvarez are huddled together, their eyes big and scared.

“We can’t go back,” says Renee urgently. The rest of them turn to look back up the street and there is a black wave of… something… flowing towards them. Neil’s experience with pods and traps says that they really, really don’t want to be caught in the thick, oily substance.

Dan swears and then commands them forwards, instructing them to shoot at will, hoping to deactivate any pods ahead of them. They succeed in hitting a couple, the resulting explosions creating holes in the nearby buildings. Jean steps onto one by mistake: it catapults him backwards into the black wave. His scream as he is enveloped by the oil is bone-chilling.

Laila stops and tries to go back for him, but Thea yanks her forcibly forwards. “Focus,” she snaps. “He’s gone. Stay alive now and deal with it later.”

“Shit, shit, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dan is chanting.

“We have to get out of the street,” says Renee, still sounding level headed and mostly calm.

“This way!” calls Dan, and they enter one of the buildings through a hole that had been blasted earlier. Dan leads them into a stairwell and they climb up high enough to be out of the path of the black substance.

The nine of them break into an abandoned apartment and then try to catch their breath. Laila and Alvarez are both shaking uncontrollably. Matt starts urgently talking into his communication device, while Thea takes the first aid kit that Renee has been carrying and starts to tend to Kevin’s leg wound. Neil resolutely avoids looking in Andrew’s direction.

Dan pulls out her holographic device. She presses a series of buttons, and then passes it to Kevin to do the same. “Jeremy Knox, commander of Star Squad confirmed dead,” she says into the holo in a steely voice. “Danielle Wilds-Boyd, new commander, Kevin Day second-in-command.” The holo blinks confirmation at their access codes and displays the pod map.

“Communications aren’t working,” Matt says, giving up trying to contact their backup.

“Cameras are out too,” Laila adds. “There must have been an EMP or something to interfere with all our unshielded devices.”

“We need to get back and regroup with the rebel forces,” Dan says. “We can’t stay here and wait for rescue; I’ll bet the Capitol knows we’re here and right now we’re sitting ducks.”

“I think,” says Renee, carefully neutral, “that we should consider whether returning to the rebellion is the safest option for us.”

Matt, Dan, Kevin, Laila, and Alvarez are all visibly surprised. Thea is still bandaging Kevin’s leg, her face stony. Renee looks first to Andrew, then to Neil, her eyes dark. Her sweet exterior is gone and the rest of them are forcibly reminded that she was once the thirteen year old who used a sword to skewer her opponents with extreme prejudice when competing in the Hunger Games. Her ruthlessness and brutality suddenly show through. Dan and Matt both shift uncomfortably.

Renee gets whatever support or confirmation she needs from Andrew and Neil and then turns to the others. “The rebels are going to win this war,” she says. “Ichirou Moriyama will be looking to what happens next. He wants to rule; we are obstacles for him.”

“How do you mean?” asks Laila. “He’s promised elections.”

“Yes, but those will take time to organize. Whoever is in control in the meantime will have an advantage over their opposition. He wants that control, but there’s no guarantee that the people of the districts will follow him.”

“Why are we a problem, then?” asks Matt. “It’s not like any of us is going to lead the country.”

“No,” agrees Renee, “but we’re the most recognizable figures in the rebellion. We’ve been creating propaganda videos for months and we were celebrities before that. Kevin is the face of their movement. Our word will carry a great deal of weight.”

“And you don’t support him?” Alvarez asks.

Renee shrugs. “He can’t take the chance that we won’t. Neil has already expressed his dislike of him and his displeasure for his rule.”

Kevin shoots Neil an exasperated look.

“So you think he’s trying to have us killed?” Thea asks.

“This war is practically won. He doesn’t need us for propaganda anymore; all the districts are held by the rebels. There’s only one thing that the seven of us could do that can help him now.”

“Die,” says Neil into the silence that follows Renee’s statement. “Martyrs for his cause.”

“Okay,” says Dan slowly. “Say you’re right. What are our options? The Capitol forces don’t want us alive, either. Where do we go?”

“We have to kill Riko Moriyama.” Surprisingly, it is Kevin who speaks up. “This conflict will end as soon as he’s dead; he knows that if he surrenders he will not survive so he will fight until his last defense is stripped from him. If he were dead, his supporters wouldn’t remain loyal, they’d surrender and hope for mercy.”

“He’ll be in the president’s mansion,” says Laila. “It’s the best defended place in the city, directly at its centre. You can’t just waltz in there and kill him.”

“I can, actually,” says Kevin. “I grew up there before I went to the Tribute training academy in District 2. The mansion has emergency escape tunnels; I know where they connect to the sewer system.”

“Sewers?” says Thea with distaste.

“If we go into the subway station near here we can get close to the city centre using the maintenance tunnels,” says Alvarez. “My brother used to work in them; he said that they make up a warren under the city. We should stay off the streets.”

“We?” Matt asks her.

“There’s no way we’re going to miss an assassination mission!” exclaims Laila. “We’re reporters and it’s a story that needs to be told.”

“So we’re all in agreement?” inquires Dan. “From right now we are going against orders to carry out the assassination of President Moriyama?” She makes eye contact with all of them, getting their agreement before she nods. She looks at her holo. “Alright, I can see the closest access to the subway. There don’t appear to be any pods between here and there, but keep alert.”

Everybody is readying to leave when a holographic calendar on the wall catches Neil’s attention. It indicates that it is January 19th. “Is that the date?” he asks.

Dan follows his gaze and then checks her holo. “Yes, why?”

“No reason,” says Neil. “I just never thought I’d live to be twenty.”

“It’s your birthday?” demands Matt. “Why didn’t you say anything? Happy birthday!”

“Thanks,” says Neil dryly. “It’s been a great day so far. I’m sure it will just keep getting better and better.”

* * *

The maintenance tunnels are dark and dank and deserted. They have to rely on the lights on their guns: small pools of pale light. The shadows move around them, making it feel as if there are creatures watching from just outside of their visual range. Laila and Alvarez, as civilians, are kept in the middle of the group; they’ve salvaged the lights from their cameras to provide more light.

Dan is leading the group. She has her holo out to keep an eye out for pods; so far there are none underground. Mostly she’s using the holo to keep track of their progress towards the city centre. The tunnels are winding with many branches, they would quickly get turned around without a map. There are noises in the distance: squeaks and shuffling and metal screeching.

“Feels like we’re in a horror movie,” Laila mutters.

“Better be careful, Babe,” Alvarez responds. “You’re the only white chick here.”

“Aw, Al, why did you have to put that thought in my mind?” Laila whines.

“And you’re blonde, too,” Alvarez continues mercilessly. “You’re definitely doomed.”

“You’re going to feel so guilty when the rabid mutant bursts from the shadows and kills me,” Laila pouts.

They stop every few hours to eat protein bars and drink water, but they are all on edge and conversation is kept to a minimum. The constant tension is wearing them out.

“We’re going to have to get some sleep soon,” Dan eventually says. “It’s after midnight and I don’t know about all of you, but I’m exhausted.”

“You want us to sleep in the creepy tunnels?” Laila says with distaste.

“Do you have another suggestion?”

“Whereabouts are we?” Laila asks.

Dan consults her holo and tells her the closest cross street. “We’re past the barricades and in the non-evacuated parts of the city.”

Laila hums thoughtfully. “I know somewhere that we can go, a friend nearby who can offer us a safehouse. Can I see the map?” Laila studies the holo with Kevin and then hands it back to Dan. “There should be a path to the surface this way.” She leads them down a narrow passageway, with Kevin and Thea on either side of her to provide light and protection. They have to travel single file to fit through the passage. At the end of the tunnel, there is an ancient looking door with a rusted wheel in the middle of it. Kevin grasps the wheel and puts his back into turning it, rust flaking off and the rocks overhead shifting ominously. The wheel starts turning with a screech and Kevin manages to unlock and open the door. The room beyond is circular with an old, rusted ladder leading up to a manhole on the surface.

Just as Andrew is following the others through the door, Neil catches movement above; the rocks surrounding the door have shifted and are beginning to fall.

Neil dives towards Andrew, pushing him out of the way of the falling rocks. He tackles him to the floor and covers him with his body to protect him. The rubble hits the ground in a cascade. It takes a while for the rumbling to stop, but soon the only sounds are the pitter-patter of small rocks bouncing down the rockslide and their coughs, their lungs reacting to the dust in the air.

Neil raises his head to survey the damage. The doorway is completely blocked by large stones. Kevin, Thea, and Laila are on this side of the barricade, slowly moving and brushing debris off of themselves.

“Hello?” Matt’s voice calls tentatively from the other side. “You guys okay?”

“I think so,” Neil calls back. “Anybody get crushed?”

“I’ve got Dan, Renee, and Alvarez over here with me; I hope there are five of you over there?”

Andrew gets Neil’s attention by poking a finger into his throat. Neil realizes that he’s still pinning Andrew to the ground, so quickly shuffles off of him. Kevin’s taken over the shouted conversation with the others, trying to decide what to do. Luckily, Dan has the holo; without it they would be hopelessly lost in the maze of tunnels.

“There’s only one way out of this room; we’ll have to get to the surface,” Kevin says. “We can go to Laila’s friend’s place, but what are you four going to do?”

There is a very pregnant pause. “We’ll have to go back and try to find another way around,” Renee says finally. “We don’t know how long that will take, or if it’s even possible. You’ll have to go on without us.”

A silence falls over them.

“Okay,” Thea eventually calls hesitantly.

“Laila, I’ll try to get them to one of the other safehouses in the city,” Alvarez offers.

“I’ll try to send a message,” Laila calls back to her.

“Fuck,” Dan’s mutter can be barely heard. “Kevin, you’re in charge of getting the mission completed. Good luck you guys.”

“Be safe,” Matt calls.

Andrew has been watching Neil through the entire conversation.

“I do not need your protection,” he says.

“Clearly you do, or else you’d be flat,” Neil retorts. “I was helping you keep up your end of the bargain.”

“Next time do not put yourself in danger.”

“If it means losing you, then no,” says Neil.

Andrew stands and brushes himself off. “I hate you,” he says blandly.

“Real,” mutters Neil and moves to follow him.

* * *

Laila hurries them through the deserted streets: if any of the Capitol patrols spot them they will be in trouble. She brings them to a costume shop that is dark and closed and knocks frantically on the door. A woman wearing a hooded dressing gown promptly arrives and lets them in.

“It’s after curfew,” the woman hisses. “Get inside quickly before anybody sees.”

“This is Vixen,” Laila whispers, then, to their host, “We need a place to hide for the night.”

“And disguises, too, I’m guessing,” the woman whispers back, pushing down the hood of her dressing gown. She has wild reddish hair, similar in colour to Neil’s, and she’s clearly undergone quite a bit of reconstructive surgery, as is popular among the Capitol’s most fashionable. Her face resembles that of a fox.

She and Laila have a rapid, whispered conversation before she leads them to the back of her shop, moving aside several racks of clothing and opening a trapdoor in the floor. The five of them head down into the hidden room as Vixen closes the door after them and moves the clothes racks back on top of the trapdoor.

The secret space under the floor is cozy: two rooms and a washroom. There are blankets and pillows provided, as well as a shelf full of protein bars and bottles of water.

Kevin looks at the water with distaste, as if he’d been hoping for a very different clear beverage. Neil supposes that his months of sobriety have helped dull the craving a little, but the two deaths today - one a close friend and one somebody he admired - probably have Kevin wishing for the oblivion found at the bottom of a bottle.

Instead he squares his shoulders and turns to the rest of them. “We should make plans for tomorrow,” he says authoritatively.

Laila reacts with affront, the only one of them never to have experienced Kevin’s arrogance sliding into place as armour. “No,” she says hotly. “We are going to sleep and ignore your personal vendetta for a night and worry about the people we care about who are still in dangerous situations and cry for our friends who died today.”

Kevin looks stricken, so Neil speaks up quietly. “Brutally losing people you care about may be new for you but it’s not for us.” He lets that sink in for a couple moments. “The best way to honour them and to keep others safe is to end this conflict as soon as possible and punish those responsible.”

Laila deflates and Neil can suddenly see that she is a young woman who is hurting. She hasn’t grown an exoskeleton to defend against death and destruction like the rest of them have. She probably thought that watching the Hunger Games had prepared her for violence, but seeing and experiencing are vastly different. She nods quickly, her lower lip trembling a little and her eyes wet. Neil backs up quickly and sends a panicked look around. Between him, Andrew, Kevin, and Thea there is no one in the room capable of offering comfort. It is even a toss-up who is the worst at it.

Laila seems to realize this at the same time as Neil, and scoffs a laugh. She gathers up bedding and retreats into a corner of the room, curling up to comfort herself.

Kevin looks relieved at her departure but also conflicted about whether to bring up their plans again or not. Thea looks and him and shrugs. “We’ll sleep now,” she decides, and Kevin seems to relax a little as soon as the decision is taken out of his hands. “We’ll finalize our plans tomorrow morning,” Thea continues.

Neil tries to sleep, unsuccessfully, for a short time. First Laila’s, followed by Thea’s and Kevin’s breathing evens out and slows down as they drop into sleep. After giving up his attempt at sleep, Neil is unsurprised to lift his head and find Andrew watching him. Andrew tilts his head slightly towards the unoccupied second room and Neil nods, gets up, and follows him into it. They sit on the floor facing each other.

Neil reaches out slowly, making his movement obvious so that Andrew can stop him if he wishes. He uses his thumb to gently tap the bruising on Andrew’s cheekbone; it is dark purple and Andrew’s eye has filled with blood. “Never learned how to duck?” Neil asks lightly, through his guilt. He hunches a little. “I’m sor-”

Andrew raises his fist as if to hit him. Neil waits patiently. Andrew shakes with the effort it takes to lower his hand. “Say it again and I will kill you.”

“That would probably be safest,” says Neil bitterly. “Poor broken Neil.”

“Self-pity is not attractive, Neil,” says Andrew. “Reflexively attacking someone tackling you to the ground indicates that you’re less mentally damaged than I thought.”

“It was you, though,” protests Neil. “I trust you.”

“I know you do,” replies Andrew, and leans forward to kiss him.

Andrew kisses him like he thinks their lives are going to end tomorrow. Like everything that matters anymore is here in this room. Neil wonders how Andrew, with his studied disinterest, can kiss like this. Neil’s entire body is sparking awareness as he opens up to Andrew, trusting him. Both of Andrew’s hands are on Neil’s face, searing heat into him. He reaches up towards Andrew, before realizing that he knows better than to touch him without permission so settles for latching onto his sleeve.

Andrew takes this as a cue to stop; he pulls back just far enough that their foreheads are pressed together and they are panting into each other’s mouths. “Tell me to stop,” he gasps out.

“Why would I do that?” asks Neil, so Andrew kisses him again.

Later, they are sitting side by side with their backs against the wall. Neil is holding one of Andrew’s hands, playing with his fingers.

“If Riko Moriyama is killed then your deal with Kevin will be over,” Neil points out.

“Ours is still in effect,” Andrew says instantly. _Stay alive_.

“I wouldn’t dream of breaking it,” Neil replies. _You too_.

* * *

Vixen brings them hot pastries in the morning for breakfast. She tells them that the rebels have advanced in the night and are now only about ten blocks away from their location. This part of the city is being evacuated. She tells them that the rich families in the city centre are being forced by the Peacekeepers to open up their homes to the refugees from the parts of the city that are under attack. The president’s mansion is even being opened to accept refugees to keep them out of the freezing cold.

Kevin hums thoughtfully and studies the map of the city that Vixen brought with her. It is made of paper; Neil wonders where she could have procured such a thing in a city that relies so heavily on technology.

“We should split up,” Kevin declares. Thea makes a slight sound of protest, but Kevin just points at the map. “We’ll have to circle around to the far side of the building to access the secret entrance. Two of us can try that, but they’re just letting refugees into the mansion. It may be simpler to enter that way. Besides, having two separate ways to the president increases our odds of success.”

“Or just easier to catch us without backup,” Neil grumbles.

“Vixen said that they are preferentially letting _children_ into the president’s mansion,” Laila points out.

“Perfect,” says Thea. “Dress Neil and Andrew up in ratty clothes and cover their faces in dirt and they can pass as children.”

Andrew doesn’t even react to her dig because he is too busy staring at Kevin. “I promised to protect you from the president, Kevin,” he says. “Did you forget that in your plan to send me somewhere else?”

Kevin shifts uncomfortably. “Thea won’t let anything happen to me. Plus if you and Neil get to Riko first, you’ll protect me from having to kill him and our bargain will be complete.”

“You raise a good point,” says Neil. “Are you capable of killing him? The man who practically raised you?”

Kevin opens his mouth to answer but then shrinks into himself a little. He shrugs.

“I will kill him,” says Thea. “I owe him that.”

“We all owe him that,” Neil points out. Thea meets his eyes and nods.

Vixen is helpful disguising them. Neil and Andrew are dressed in large coats, looking as if they grabbed whatever they could when evacuating from their home. In reality, the coats are roomy so that they can hide all their weapons underneath. They’re both given hats to hide their hair and to obscure their faces, which are dirtied to hide their more adult features and the fact that they are capable of growing facial hair. Laila, Kevin, and Thea dress like the other refugees that are streaming towards the city centre. They join the crowd and move towards their destinations. Laila splits off from them first: she is heading to nearby safehouses to see if she can find Alvarez and the others. Kevin and Thea leave shortly thereafter, heading to loop around to the secret entrance to the Moriyama mansion.

Neil tries to keep close to Andrew as they weave through the crowds and avoid the Peacekeepers who are clearly searching for people who don’t belong. There are long lineups heading to the president’s mansion. Neil and Andrew find themselves following the call for children to come forward. They are nearing the gates when a hovercraft emblazoned with the Capitol’s symbol flies over, dropping many silver parachutes.

Neil flashes back to his time in the Games; these appear to be sponsor gifts. What could the Capitol be dropping in small boxes to their own residents? He gets his answer when the boxes explode.

He’s thrown back by the explosion, but was luckily far enough away that he is unhurt. He’s acquired some bruises, but has escaped the grisly fates of the children closer to the gates. In the chaos, he has lost Andrew.

Another hovercraft appears, this one displaying the stylized suns of the rebellion. It drops off a large number of medical personnel, each of them wearing a red cross to distinguish them from rebel combatants. They rush to the gates where the worst of the carnage is found; hurrying to help the gravely injured children.

Neil notices that not all the silver boxes have detonated and his stomach twists in warning. He’s trying to decide what to do when he sees a familiar flash of blonde hair. It is not Andrew, it is Aaron, here with the medics. A sick rush of understanding flows through Neil and he is on his feet and running towards Aaron before he realizes it.

“Aaron!” he shouts. He doesn’t particularly care for Aaron’s wellbeing, but Andrew certainly does. “Aaron, get out of here!”

He’s still sprinting towards Aaron when the man in question looks up at his shout. He is visibly surprised and then his eyes track the square, presumably looking for his brother. His mouth starts to form the word ‘Andrew’.

That is when the rest of the bombs detonate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Spoilery warnings:** Once they join the war effort, both Jeremy and Jean die. At the very end of the chapter it is heavily implied that Aaron is killed.
> 
> The final chapter is fairly short and should be posted by the end of the week.
> 
> In other news, I'm planning a continuation of my [Brooklyn Nine-Nine AU](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13414899) which should be posted in a couple days. It contains absolutely zero angst and everyone is alive and happy!


	4. i’m locking up everyone that ever laid a finger on me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. I know you're all mad at me, so here's the final chapter. 
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: violence, murder, references to past character death, characters suffering from undiagnosed depression and PTSD. As always, let me know if I missed anything.

Neil wakes up disoriented. He thinks at first that he’s back in the medical wing of District 13 before recent memories return to him. He’d been caught in an explosion; he should not be waking up at all.

His arms and chest and face are all heavily bandaged, covered in burns. Shifting slightly has him groaning in pain. There is a musical beep and then a rush of relief as morphling flows through his IV.

He opens his eyes and sees Andrew sitting by his bedside. He tenses, not out of fear, but because the sight of Andrew reminds him who else was caught in the explosion. Andrew meets his eyes and Neil’s breath catches. He had expected Andrew’s usual blankness, but instead his eyes reflect his unfathomable anger, his limitless core of fury. Perhaps it should worry him, but Neil knows without a doubt that Andrew’s bottomless rage will never hurt him. Without having to be told, Neil can glean Aaron’s fate and he curses softly.

“Did Kevin and Thea kill Riko at least?” he rasps.

Andrew shakes his head minutely. “Everyone turned on Riko as soon as he killed children and medics to try to stop rebels from sneaking into his mansion.”

“As predicted,” Neil mutters, remembering the briefing they’d had before leaving District 13.

Andrew inclines his head. “Kevin and Thea didn’t even make it to the back entrance before the Capitol surrendered. There is to be a public execution in a few weeks.”

“So Riko is being blamed for the parachutes?”

“It was clearly a Capitol hovercraft that dropped them,” Andrew says without emotion. Neil doesn’t believe that for one minute and he can tell that Andrew doesn’t either. Riko Moriyama is sadistic and cruel but there was no reason for him to drop those bombs. Only his brother has benefitted. “Ichirou Moriyama took control of the Capitol’s forces after the surrender,” continues Andrew, as if reading Neil’s thoughts.

“And the elections?” Neil asks, pretty sure that he can guess the answer to that question.

“Postponed until further notice. There is apparently too much unrest to even think about elections right now. We have to focus on unity and healing and mourning our losses under the guidance of our benevolent new president.” Andrew’s voice is particularly dead as he quotes Ichirou’s words.

Neil stares sightlessly at the ceiling. After everything they’ve been through, everyone they’ve lost, they are right back where they started. He doesn’t know if he’s surprised or not.

* * *

Being treated at the cutting edge medical facility in the Capitol means that Neil heals quickly; however, he is still feeling distant and detached days after he wakes up. Andrew leaves him alone almost never, but he doesn’t say much. When Neil is present enough in his mind to notice, he tries to start up a conversation in order to draw Andrew out of his dark thoughts. At these times Neil wishes he could dispel the fog and apathy that are plaguing him; Andrew has been such a source of support for him for the last few months, he wants to return the favour.

Luckily Betsy is here to do it for him. She makes sure that Andrew is eating and sleeping. She also tries to coax him out of Neil’s hospital room, but Andrew refuses.

“Every time I let him out of my sight he gets kidnapped or shot or blown up,” he says flatly.

“I know that you thought you’d lost him - that you’d lost both him and Aaron at the same time,” says Betsy gently, “but Neil’s fine and you need your sleep.”

Andrew doesn’t look away from Neil. “Neil’s never been fine,” he says.

“It was a poor choice of words,” Betsy admits. “He’s alive and he’s not going anywhere.”

“Then neither am I.”

Betsy evidently realizes that further argument is futile, so she arranges for a cot for Andrew to be brought into Neil’s room.

When Neil is discharged he and Andrew move into the suite at the Tower that Neil had previously shared with Matt and Seth. He realizes that he hasn’t seen or heard from anyone other than Andrew and Betsy since the end of the war and asks Betsy where everyone is. He wonders if everyone else is also dead. But, no, Betsy assures him, everyone is alive and keeping busy. Dan and Matt and Renee and Robin are all out in the districts helping with cleanup and restoration, Kevin and Thea are working with the new government, and Abby’s medical skills are in high demand. She also tells him that Erik and Katelyn had been held captive by the Capitol throughout the rebellion because of their connections to the rebel Victors, but they weren’t mistreated. Nicky and Erik have reconnected, which is good because Nicky is throwing himself into work to deal with his grief. The two of them are working with Allison, Laila, and Alvarez to provide video footage of the reconstruction and reconciliation efforts.

Once the sun goes down, Neil takes Andrew up to the roof. Andrew has acquired cigarettes from somewhere and lights two, passing one to Neil so that he can breathe in the smell of the smoke. His association with the smell has shifted, from his mother to Andrew.

“You know,” Neil says, “these things will kill you.”

“They can get in line.”

“On the bright side, it’s a much shorter line than it used to be.” They sit quietly for a while, before Neil starts feeling a little antsy. “What are we going to do now?”

“Kill Ichirou Moriyama,” says Andrew dully.

It is not a surprise, but a spike of panic hits Neil anyway. “Andrew - you can’t,” he says desperately. “Andrew, they’ll take you away. You can’t - you can’t -” he’s having trouble breathing.

Andrew grasps the back of his neck. “Breathe, Neil,” he commands.

Neil reaches forward and fists Andrew’s hoodie in his hands. “Promise me you won’t,” he pants. “Andrew, promise me.”

“He has to die.”

“I know,” Neil says. “I know he does, but it can’t be you. It can’t.”

“He killed Aaron,” says Andrew in a ragged voice.

“For years it’s been said that without your drugs you are violent and dangerous. If you kill him they will put you back on your drugs or lock you up or _take you away from me_ and I can’t Andrew - I can’t do this alone,” Neil says, his voice breaking.

“What do you suggest, then?”

Neil takes a deep breath, calming a little now that Andrew seems willing to listen. He detaches himself from Andrew’s clothing and sits back. “I will think of something,” he promises. “He’ll die, I promise, but give me time to plan. We can’t rush it.”

Andrew is quiet for a while. “Fine,” he eventually says. “As long as he dies. Then we’re finished and we’re leaving this city.”

“You’ll take me with you?” Neil checks.

“That’s what I indicated when I said ‘we’, Neil,” says Andrew.

“What… what will we do?” asks Neil.

Andrew lifts one shoulder in a half shrug and puts out his cigarette butt on the concrete. “Exist.”

Neil breathes out a sigh of relief. He’s never had a future to think about before, but this seems to be a goal he can manage. “We will do it together?” he confirms. If he has to exist alone he’s afraid he might evaporate.

Andrew looks over at him and rolls his eyes. He reaches out to fist his hand in the front of Neil’s shirt. “Yes or no?” he says.

“Yes,” Neil answers and Andrew pulls him into a kiss. It’s less desperate than their last kisses, more of an affirmation than anything else.

Andrew sits back and lights another cigarette. Neil gets permission and then leans against him, feeling more settled. Andrew isn’t going to suddenly disappear. “We’re not nothing,” he says, satisfied.

He almost misses Andrew’s muttered, “Real,” in response.

* * *

A few days later Betsy informs them that Ichirou Moriyama is calling a meeting with the nine living Victors.

Neil thinks he’s misheard. “Nine?” he asks. “How can there only be nine living Victors?” Considering that between forty and fifty Victors had been alive during the Reaping for the Quell, she must be mistaken.

Betsy looks at him gravely. “Many were killed in the fighting in the districts,” she says. “Others were killed by order of Riko Moriyama to ensure that they didn’t join the rebellion. Only those of us who did are still alive. We are very lucky.”

“Not usually an adjective used to describe me,” says Neil. “But I suppose it applies.”

“How many times in the past two years have you almost died?” asks Andrew dryly.

Neil meets his eyes. “Point taken.”

Dan, Matt, Renee, and Robin have to return to the city before the meeting at the president’s mansion. It is apparently urgent enough that they are brought by hovercraft. Dan walks purposefully to Neil to envelop him in a hug when they arrive and Neil allows himself to slump gratefully into her fierce protectiveness. Renee clasps Andrew’s shoulders to give them a squeeze and Matt wraps himself around both Dan and Neil.

The nine of them are led into the Moriyamas' conference room; a large circular table takes up almost the entire room. They spread themselves evenly around it; something about the oppressive atmosphere of the room subdues them, so they wait for Ichirou in uncomfortable silence.

“Don’t kill him,” Neil whispers to Andrew.

“I promised you, didn’t I?” replies Andrew.

Ichirou sweeps into the room, utterly confident and assured in his position. Neil supposes it makes sense; he had been prepared to control the country since birth. Andrew’s hands tighten into fists, his knuckles turning white, but his face remains placid.

“My advisors and I have been discussing what we will do with the high ranking members of my brother’s government,” Ichirou states as soon as he takes his place at the table. “They must, of course, be punished for their support of Riko. Many of the residents of the districts are angry; they want retribution.” He pauses and glances at each of them, his eyes giving nothing away. “An idea was put forward,” he continues, “to have one last, symbolic Hunger Games, taking the Tributes from among the children of these men.” Dan gives a dismayed cry. Neil looks at Andrew; a muscle twitches in his jaw. “This way, we will deal with the need for vengeance with the least amount of lost life and we can move forward with reconciliation and healing.” Matt scoffs loudly. Ichirou doesn’t miss a beat. “We decided to put the question to you, our only living Victors. You will vote on the proposal, with the majority deciding whether we will go forward with this plan or not.”

“No!” Dan says immediately. “I vote no, never.” She looks at the rest of them imploringly.

“Me, too,” Matt adds fervently. “We have to stop seeing each other as enemies.”

Renee glances at Andrew and nods. “I vote yes,” she says quietly. Dan makes an offended noise and Renee raises a placating hand. “I am entitled to make my own choices, even if you do not agree with them,” she says to cut off Dan’s argument.

“My choice is no,” Robin says from beside Renee. “There’s been enough death.”

“Kevin?” Ichirou prompts when nobody speaks up after Robin.

“I think no,” Kevin says. “Everyone has been punished enough.”

“I say yes,” Thea says directly after him. “I don’t think that they have.”

Betsy is next and she, like Neil, has had her eyes on Andrew throughout the entire conversation. She shifts them for a second to Neil, as if reading his intentions. “I vote yes,” she says, finally, turning back to Andrew and putting her hand on his forearm. “For my son.”

Andrew’s eyes snap to hers and he swallows audibly. “Yes,” he says roughly with no qualifier.

Ichirou fixes his reptilian gaze on Neil. “That’s four votes yes and four votes no,” he says. “You’re the deciding vote, Neil.”

Neil tears his gaze from Andrew and meets Ichirou’s eyes levelly. “You support the idea,” he says.

“My opinion has no weight here,” replies Ichirou.

“But you support it? You want these Hunger Games?” presses Neil.

Ichirou’s eyes narrow as he considers. “Yes,” he admits. “It was my idea.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” says Neil. “I’ll give you what you want if you let me be the one to kill your brother.”

There is a collective indrawn breath around the table at that, but Ichirou sits back in his chair and tents his hands together, watching Neil shrewdly. “We had thought that Kevin might-” Kevin cuts him off with a little unhappy whine. Ichirou looks towards him and then sighs. “Very well, then. You can be the executioner.”

“Neil, don’t,” Matt cuts in. “This is wrong. You _know_ this is wrong.”

Neil just turns back to Andrew, whose hazel eyes are watching him intently. “I vote yes,” says Neil. “To end the cycle of violence.”

“You can’t end violence with more violence,” says Dan savagely. “You’re just voting to continue the cycle.”

Neil doesn’t break eye contact with Andrew. “We’ll see,” he says.

* * *

Neil stands, wearing his stupid sidekick costume, at attention in the large public courtyard outside of the president’s mansion. The square is full to bursting with spectators come to witness the public execution of Riko Moriyama. He has his rifle primed, cleaned and prepped and ready to kill the president. Allison had gotten him primped and styled for old time’s sake; she didn’t speak but kept sending him speculative glances. Katelyn had then been responsible for escorting him here. She had only glanced once at Andrew, Neil’s constant shadow, before her eyes filled with wetness. She managed to blink it away quickly and then gave Neil a wavering smile and a pep talk. It really was like he was getting ready for the Hunger Games again.

Riko Moriyama is restrained, tied to a ceremonial execution post. Neil looks away from him and searches for Andrew; he is standing with the rest of the Victors, off to the side with the rebellion leaders. Ichirou takes the stage to Riko’s left, standing above them all at a microphone.

“Riko Moriyama,” he says seriously. “You are guilty of crimes against your subjects. The penalty is death.” He gestures to Neil and then steps back.

Neil aims carefully, centering in Riko in his crosshairs. Then, just before he fires, he tilts the gun upwards and pulls the trigger.

Ichirou Moriyama’s face is slack with surprise as he collapses forward, the single bullet to his brain killing him instantly.

There is instant chaos. Andrew reacts fastest, getting to Neil more quickly than Neil thought he could move and then turning and glaring threateningly at anybody who tries to seize Neil. Soldiers back off as Andrew takes Neil's gun and aims it in their direction.

Above the noise in the courtyard, Neil can hear Riko’s hysterical laughter. It is cut off abruptly with another gunshot. Neil looks around for the source and finds Kevin with a literal smoking gun. He looks determined and slightly ill. Neil is briefly wildly proud of him for dispatching the man who haunts his nightmares.

Dan, Matt, Renee, and Robin have all joined Andrew to surround Neil and keep him out of the hands of the authorities. Neil doesn’t think they’ll have much luck; he did just assassinate the president in front of everybody, after all. He can handle the consequences as long as Andrew is safe.

He gives Andrew a light touch to his back and says, “It’s fine.” He puts his hands up. “I surrender.”

* * *

No one seems quite sure what to do with Neil once they have him in their custody; he is apparently almost as popular and admired as Kevin among the general population and all the living Victors proclaim their support for him, so nobody wants to take responsibility for detaining him. In the end he is escorted back to his suite at the Tower. Andrew is a constant presence, not letting Neil out of his reach, keeping one of his hands fisted in Neil’s clothing. They are both quiet and blank once left to their own devices. Eventually they go to the bedroom and lie in Neil’s bed side by side, staring sightlessly at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t be the one to kill him,” Neil whispers into the dark. “They’ll be more lenient with me than they would with you.”

Renee comes by the next day. She does not start any conversation, but is firm when prodding them to eat something. She tells them that the interim government, made up of the rebel leaders, is deciding what is to be done with Neil. Neil cannot bring himself to care as long as he is not taken from Andrew.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Andrew says.

The days repeat themselves. It is not always Renee that comes in to see them: Matt and Dan and Robin and Betsy and Abby also come. All of them force the two of them to eat and try to provide some information about what is happening in the outside world and then leave again.

It is Betsy who tells them that Neil has been pardoned, his actions blamed on his obvious mental trauma. Both James Rhemann and his uncle Stuart had argued hard to get him acquitted. Neil is not thankful or impressed; it is the absolute minimum that they could do after what they put him through. The rebels have assigned Charles Whittier as the interim president and he has decided that Neil shouldn’t be in the spotlight anymore and is gently urging him to leave to Capitol. Betsy asks them where they wish to go.

Neil looks to Andrew who simply levels Neil with a bored look. “Somewhere warm,” Neil eventually says. His voice is rough with disuse; he and Andrew have been spending most of their days in silence. He remembers the frigid winters he spent with his mother in the wilderness or in the poorer districts where it was difficult to heat their house. He had enjoyed the heat in District 10. Andrew has only lived in District 3 and the Capitol, both of which have cold winters. He thinks that Andrew should be in the sun; he’ll probably get freckles.

Andrew’s eyebrow twitches minutely. “Staring,” he says, but he doesn’t make Neil stop.

Things move quickly after that. Betsy and Abby come to help them pack their things. Neil wasn’t aware that he had things, so he’s not sure what, exactly, they are packing (maybe clothing?), but he does his part by staying out of their way.

The morning of their exodus from the Capitol, Nicky comes to see them off. He brings Erik with him, grasping his hand tightly. Nicky looks older as he’s wearing his grief on his face. Neil has to subtly intercept him to prevent him from pulling Andrew into an ill-advised hug.

“We will visit,” Nicky promises.

“Okay,” says Neil neutrally, not really caring one way or another.

“And the communication is better between the districts now, so we’ll call and write. We’re family, we’re not going anywhere.”

“Okay,” Neil repeats.

“Are you two going to be okay?” Nicky asks fretfully. “Let us know if you need anything.”

“We’ll be fine,” says Neil.

Andrew catches his cousin’s eye. Neil doesn’t know what transpires between them, but it makes Nicky smile tremulously and nod, turning to Erik for comfort.

Abby and Betsy are travelling with them to wherever it is that they are going. On the way to the train, Neil keeps his head down, trying to avoid anyone’s notice. Andrew grips his wrist hard enough to bruise but keeps his face calm. It is a relief when they make it onto the train.

Neil does not pay attention to where they are headed but recognizes the station when they arrive.

“This is District 11,” he says.

“Yes,” confirms Abby, without offering any more information. She and Betsy take them and their luggage towards the Victor’s Village and then lead them into one of the mansions found there. Neil stops and looks in confusion at the house.

“It was David’s,” Abby explains, looking tired and sad. “He never spent much time here. It’s not being used; you can make a home here.”

She and Betsy go inside, turning on the lights and bustling around. Andrew stays outside watching Neil as he stares in trepidation at the house. He’s never had a home before, not really. He doesn’t know what to expect.

He doesn’t know that it will be hard. At first the two of them will have more bad days than good days, and their good days will be more neutral than good. There will be days when one or both of them won’t be able to get out of bed, days where Andrew cannot handle being touched, days when Neil wants to run and run and run until he escapes his memories. Neil will still wake up sweating with the memories of Lola’s hands on him and half convinced that Andrew wishes him harm. Andrew will have times when he is completely unresponsive and times when he won’t be able to let Neil out of his sight. They will both have days where they are unkempt because neither of them will be able to look in the mirror, the reflections too reminiscent of dead men.

But slowly, they will settle into their lives. They will start having more good days than bad, days spent content in each other’s company. Andrew will prove time and again that he knows and understands Neil and Neil will repay him by knowing and understanding him in return. They will spend days discovering their interests, and evenings curled up by the fire, and nights in their bed, where, after Andrew’s quiet question of, “Yes or no?”, they will take each other apart with hands and mouths and then put each other back together again.

In the spring, Andrew will start a garden in their large backyard and Neil will look at his dirt-stained hands in wonder. Neil will be constantly amazed that Andrew’s hands - hands that many have thought are only capable of violence - can coax life from the ground and hold him so gently. Neil will acquire some chickens and then express an interest in getting goats; he will never be sure who is responsible for getting them for him, but they will arrive in the summer. Andrew will hate them instantly, threatening to eat them if they disturb his garden.

They will learn to cook together, using the fruits and vegetables of Andrew’s labour and the milk and eggs from Neil’s animals.

They will accidentally adopt two stray cats that will wander into their house one day. One of the cats will appear to have taken a boot to the face, while the other will have a grumpy face so similar to Andrew’s that Neil will love it instantly. They will both be referred to as ‘Catface’ even after Nicky comes on his promised/threatened visit and bestows upon them such ridiculous names that neither Andrew nor Neil bother to learn them.

The promised elections for a representative government will be held the following autumn. Dan and Kevin will both be elected as members of this new government. Neil will vote for both of them but Andrew will refuse to vote for Kevin, claiming that he knows him too well to trust him to help run a country. Neil will laugh in agreement, bright and happy, which will surprise them both; Neil not knowing the last time he genuinely laughed, if ever.

“Do it again,” Andrew will say, to which Neil will roll his eyes and respond, “I can’t laugh on command.” Andrew will say that he will begin telling jokes, then, and at that Neil will laugh again, since the idea of Andrew purposefully telling jokes is absurd.

Throughout the years their friends will visit them. Renee will plan her visits for the spring, usually bringing Allison with her. She will take comfort in helping Andrew clear out his garden from the mild winter and plant the seeds for the summer ahead. Allison will always take the opportunity to fix Neil’s hair. She will regale him with gossip about her friends and if he closes his eyes he will be able to almost convince himself that he is eighteen again and getting ready for his first Hunger Games. Then he will open his eyes and be satisfied with his current life.

Dan and Matt will come in the summer, in later years bringing their children with them. First David, then Miranda. They will run through the house and garden giggling, their chubby hands stained with juice from blackberries and raspberries. Neil will have trouble looking at them without seeing burnt corpses or slit throats or cracked skulls. One day he will realize that these children will learn about the Hunger Games in school but that the Games will never be a part of their lives. That night will find him shaking and curled around himself, assailed by memories, not sure whether he is feeling relief or envy or sadness. Andrew will sit with him, his calm solidity a constant comfort as he clarifies which of Neil’s memories are real and which are not.

Robin and Betsy and Abby will visit in the autumn, either together or separately. They will share hot drinks and peaceful silences and help them bake pies.

Nicky will come in the winter, claiming that he needs a break from the cold temperatures of the Capitol. He and Erik are a whirlwind of energy, making Neil thankful that they only visit once a year. Their visits will always settle something in Andrew, though, so Neil never begrudges them.

Kevin will visit infrequently and unexpectedly. He will never alert them to his imminent arrival, simply showing up and sleeping on their couch for a couple days, despite the existence of several guest rooms. He will never say much, seeming to just want their company, and eventually Thea will show up to take him home.

They will never truly be fixed, but they will recover a little more every day. Some days their progress will be non-existent or negative, but together they will always manage to find something worth living for.

All of this and more is in store for Neil’s future, but he currently looks at the house with apprehension. Inside that house is his future, one he never thought he’d get and he’s not sure that he can take the first step towards it.

“I’ve never had a home before,” he admits, explaining his hesitation to Andrew.

“Come inside,” Andrew says, reaching out a hand towards him. “Yes or no?”

Neil looks at Andrew, the man who has been with him through thick and thin, who Neil trusts more than anyone else alive, who makes him feel safe. There is only one possible answer.

“Yes,” he says, and takes Andrew’s hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! Thank you for reading and commenting and sorry again for all the angst!
> 
> Coming up for me, I'm going to be posting another story in my [Brooklyn Nine-Nine AU series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/926220) relatively shortly, and I have two other longer stories in the works (both of which are fairly light and fluffy). Keep your eyes open for them :)
> 
> I can be found on tumblr [@gluupor](http://gluupor.tumblr.com).


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